I know that Memorial Day is traditionally a day for remembering those who have died in military service, but in my family we decorate all of the headstones of family members that have died with beautiful flower arrangements. I have many memories of memorial days spent driving in my grandparent’s van with the smell of chrysanthemums in the air. So this year for Memorial Day, since I can’t be with my mom when she buys roses for Grandma Egan’s grave, I’d like to write a few things that I remember about my grandparents that have passed on.
Grandpa Black (Spencer)—I remember thinking Grandpa was so weird because he said words like Cycle (pronounced “sickle” for “bicycle) and tennie runners (shoes). He had a high pitched laugh, a warm face, and he smelled like Old Spice—which smelled good because it was on an old man like it was supposed to be. When we would go to Dairy Queen he ordered a pineapple and peanut milkshake. Every morning I would go with my dad to have breakfast at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Grandpa would drink some coffee, eat half a grapefruit, and eat either shredded wheat or cheerios with honey drizzled on top. On sunny mornings when I put honey on my bran flakes instead of sugar I can hear his voice in my head saying “Good morning, good morning, what a fine day this morning….”
Happy Memorial Day