My dad always had a strange reaction to Memorial Day Weekend, or so it seemed to me as a little girl. Yes, it was the beginning of summer and we celebrated (if that is the right word) with hamburgers on the grill and root beer floats.
But I realized from an early age that the so-called “holiday” was a time when my dad, a World War Two Army veteran and normally a very upbeat person, was also quietly grieving.
Amy's Blog: Born to Write
On Memorial Day, a World War II Dad’s Legacy: Never Take a Day for Granted
May 28, 2017
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