The History of Memorial Day

An article from www.military.com

http://www.military.com/memorial-day/?ESRC=army-a.nl

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Three years after the Civil War ended, on May 5, 1868, the head of an organization of Union veterans — the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) — established Decoration Day as a time for the nation to decorate the graves of the war dead with flowers. Maj. Gen. John A. Logan declared that Decoration Day should be observed on May 30. It is believed that date was chosen because flowers would be in bloom all over the country.

The first large observance was held that year at Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C.

The ceremonies centered around the mourning-draped veranda of the Arlington mansion, once the home of Gen. Robert E. Lee. Various Washington officials, including Gen. and Mrs. Ulysses S. Grant, presided over the ceremonies. After speeches, children from the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Orphan Home and members of the GAR made their way through the cemetery, strewing flowers on both Union and Confederate graves, reciting prayers and singing hymns.

Memorial Day at Arlington and a Lack of Manners

The following excerpt was written a few days after Memorial Day 2008.
LaNita

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One of the widows I am friends with recently shared an experience she had. Her husband is buried at Arlington. She does not live near there, so when she decided to go to Washington, DC for Memorial Day, it was an opportunity for her to "sit" with her husband and spend time wrapped in her memories. Personally, I can think of no better way to honor our loved ones who are passed. So she set out with her blanket and i-pod to spend a quiet day alone. Unfortunately, we do not live in a very considerate society. Instead of finding a peaceful moment with her memories, she became a "tourist attraction". She said that she sat on her blanket, ear plugs in, eyes closed and still people felt the need to stop and ask her questions the whole time she was there.

At the end of the weekend and before leaving for home, she went back to spend a few more moments at his gravesite. As she sat there on the ground, head down crying, she heard a click and looked up to see a lady next to her, taking her picture. The lady walked around her husband's grave, knelt down and started asking questions and then took another picture. WTF?!!

My friend mentioned also that she recognized a Gold Star father whose son was buried near her husband and went over to talk with him. The father was talking to someone who ended up being a reporter looking to do interviews with the families there. Needless to say, my friend found very little peace while she was there.

While I do applaud people who care enough to go to Arlington on Memorial Day since that is what the day is all about, it amazes me that people have the gall to interrupt a family while they are visiting their loved one's grave! How inconsiderate and selfish can people be?! Since I am one of those people who sees a soldier in the airport and feels a strong need to say thanks and shake their hand, I understand wanting to express your gratefulness, but NOT in a graveyard!!! As for taking pictures of family members during such a private moment as if they are a tourist attraction, well that is not too far off the mark of people who feel the need to protest at a soldier's funeral. It just goes beyond the pale!

For those wondering, Arlington only allows reporters to do interviews like that on Memorial Day weekend. I wonder why they even allow it then.

There have been moments when I think that Bryant deserves the prestige and honor of being at Arlington, but after hearing my friend's story, I am very happy that Bryant's ashes sit in our living room...

Who Pissed in My Lucky Charms?

This was written June 1, 2008.  If you know a widow and she is just a little bit aggravated this time of the year... give her just a little slack.  Trust me.  She's allowed.
LaNita
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May is finally over. THANK YOU GOD! For obvious reasons, April and May are NOT my favorite months at all. Too many bad memories and too many bad reminders. I have to say that this year was very hard. I would have thought that it would get easier with time, but I am feeling as if this one was the worst. Maybe it is because I am in the moment. I just know that what I have been feeling over the past 6 weeks sucks. It has built up and just gotten worse.

I am on a yahoo surviving spouse group and there was a lot going on with discussion this past week. Typically, I am one of the women that chimes in often (have I mentioned that I am opinionated). I replied to a lot of the discussion this week but never sent them because my replies were very negative and very pissy. You know it is bad when even you know you are being pissy for no reason! Needless to say I have been quite the anti-social, stop aggravating me, bitch the past few days.

I hope I can get through this funk I am in. I don't know if I have finally hit the anger stage of grief or if I am just dreading the fact that our unit leaves in less than 2 weeks. Yes... for Iraq. (happyhappyjoyjoy). Something is just different with me and I feel very lost. Not the sad sort of lost that I have been feeling since Bryant's death, but the sort of lost where I feel I no longer control my life. My house looks like a tornado hit it and I am so uncomfortable here. I have become very good at not "seeing" the messes and going through the motions. The things that have to be done, I force myself to do. The only time I really seem to feel anything is when I let myself cry. I am not interested in anything.

The problem is that I hate being this way. I want the old me back. I want to be organized and anal. I want to have a future that I look forward to and not constantly compare what I do have to what I did because compared to what I had with Bryant, my future will always fall short of happy. I want normal. I want to walk through my house, see something I forgot to do and just do it, not walk through my house a week later and still be saying, "I forgot to do that" again. I want a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I want to look outside and say, "It is going to be a beautiful day", but I can't. I look out my window now... the sun's out, my yard is mowed and there is even a NASCAR race today, but it is just another day that I have to live through.
School starts in another week. I am actually dreading it, but it is another thing I have to do. I have to, right? (sigh). Can I just run away? Start over somewhere else? Not be me anymore? No. No one can run from who they are. This is who I am... a woman who lost everything when she lost her husband.

I can't change that and I will never ever see Bryant again. I can't begin to even explain what that is. You can take everything out of my life... my house, all my possessions, even my dogs and I can still live. I'll hurt, but I'll get by. I'll get over it. I'll move on and forget. NOT WITH BRYANT. I don't know how to do this without him. I don't want to do this without him. But I will. People see that as strength. I see it as punishment and I just wish I knew what I did that was so bad that this happened to me.

For those who say that capital punishment is wrong, I personally think it is much more humane that a life sentence...

The First Memorial Day

This was written May 27, 2007... 13 months after Bryant's death.  It was my first Memorial Day without him.  

LaNita

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Babe...
It was not an easy weekend for me. NOT that any day without you has been easy. But this was different. Instead of the constant reminders of all the great stuff about you, this weekend was about remembering your death and your funeral. And to think I used to love hearing "Amazing Grace" on the bagpipes! I don't want to remember that stuff...

All the rain and the storms seemed to fit my mood though. I am not sure that having a cookout and all the "typical" Memorial Day activities apply anymore. I always knew what it was all about, especially since Grandpa died on Memorial Day, but it was hard to get a real feel for it when he was a WWI vet and was able to live a long life. I know that it is a "holiday" and do not expect people to know or understand... HELL! Most people in this country do not know to put their hand over their heart during The National Anthem! So, why would I expect anyone to understand this! So, even though it made for a lousy holiday weekend, I am glad it rained.

You know, so often people will "thank me" for my "sacrifice". I know that they have only good intentions when they say it, but I always feel uncomfortable hearing it. I really don't want thanks for your death. The Lord Above KNOWS that I would take you back in a heartbeat and since I know that I would give everything I have to get you back, it is an undeserved thanks. I don't want anyone to thank me for something I hate! Just something I needed to say...

Oh Bry... you know I miss you and I know that you have been with me through every tear, every sleepless night, every lost moment. I certainly do not need a holiday to remind me of what I have lost.

May GOD keep you and all our service men and women who we have lost close to his heart EVERY day and not just for a weekend in May.

Happy Memorial Day????

I wrote this blog two years ago and find that it still applies every year to so many.  Please take the time to really think about what Memorial Day really means....

Every year at this time I fight with the idea that people tell me "Happy Memorial Day". People that know me, know what Ive gone through... still say it to me. Family still says it. For the rest who say it, do you think that there is anything "happy" at all about remembering all those who have died for this country? I blog about this every year and I dont think there will ever be a year that I dont. When I hear those three words my skin crawls.




"Happy Memorial Day"...it seems to just flow of the tongues of those around us. As though Memorial Day is just any other "holiday" to be celebrated with joy and happiness. When someone says "Hey Happy Memorial Day" what exactly are they so "happy" about? Maybe its the extra 20% or 30% they will get off beach towels at Macys, or maybe its the fact that they are off work, cooking out and not paying any attention to why they are really off work. Do these "happy" people take any time during their day off to share a moment thinking of those who paid the ultimate price for them to be off work and cooking out, or shopping "the big sale"??


Do people take the time to teach and show their children the importance of Memorial Day? Do they take them to a National Cemetery and show them all the lives that have been lost, tell them what that means for those who are still alive? Do they educate their children to show respect to those who have fallen for all the freedoms we take for granted every damn day? Do they just take a moment, a simple moment in their day to show that they care, or understand what the day is about?


My first Memorial Day I was not willing to admit that it had anything to do with Chris. We had always gone and placed flags at grave sites on this day. My first Memorial Day I did the same thing with Oliver and Owen in tow. But on that first one, there were more deaths. A CPT Alex Funkhouser was killed while in the line of duty not only to his country but to US reporters in Iraq. I knew that all that I had been feeling since January 5, his wife would now feel too. My heart broke for I knew every Memorial Day she would have a double heart wrenching reminder of her husband's death. I knew that she would face Memorial Day and the 29th of May, double days for her. Little did I know that this wife, now a new widow like me would become one of my best friends. Little did I know that she had two girls close to my two boy's age. Little did I know that our lives ran in such a parallel manner.


My second Memorial Day I took the boys and we went to Virginia to see Chris' mom. I wanted to spend this Memorial Day with Chris at Arlington. I wanted the boys to see that they were not only, not alone; but that they could still be near their father. As that day went on there were more cameras taking pictures of them by the Chris' grave.(One made it to the front page of the Washington Post the next day) There were families that just stood there, paying their respects and as the tears flowed down their cheeks they watched Oliver fix a flag by Chris' grave. They watched Owen pluck the heads of the flowers there and they watched a mother with tears in her eyes as she realized this was her reality, this was her life. Watching her two boys "play" with or by their father...the only way they ever would be able to.


As I looked around and saw their faces, their tears and their heads shaking back and forth; I realized that yes there are those out there that dont say "Happy Memorial Day", they come to Arlington to pay their respects to OUR fallen. They come to be with those who have paid the ultimate and spend time with their families. There was a father there, in uniform and beside him was his little son in BDUs. They stood at attention as TAPS played. I was so taken by this that I asked him why he does this with his son and he said "death is a part of life, death for your country is going beyond what life can offer" "I want my son to realize what this day is for. Not just a day off school or work, I want him to understand and respect the magnitude of what and who and why we have set this day aside to honor and remember those who have died in combat". I burst into tears, gave him a big hug and as I let go of him he and his son saluted the boys and I and then went to salute Chris. (Gosh I have tears running down my face typing this) I have never seen the true meaning in any one person's eyes of what Memeorial Day means to them then that of those eyes that day.


So I ask that if you dont know anyone who has been affected by a war death, to please at least teach your children what Memorial Day is for. Take them to a National Cemetary and place a few flags, go on and google Memorial Day, teach them about what this day means. This is just a small thing to do, teach your kids what this country is about, teach them why we need to stand up for it, love it, and protect it. That is the BEST way to honor our fallen, those who faught and died for what they beleived in. For those familieas that struggle everyday without their loved one, this is a small gesture for them too. It tells us that our loved one, did not die in vein. If you do know someone who has lost someone to a war, this one or any previous, please take the time to just tell them you are thinking about them, you are greatful and love them. But please dont say "Happy Memorial Day" to them...for us there is nothing "happy" about it.


To all my widsters that might read this, know that on Memorial Day, your Anniversaries and every day of the year, I think of OUR HEROES! I think about your families, your pain, your hearts your children and your happiness. For those who have lost a family member to previous wars, my heart and my thoughts are always with you too. Thank you for your loved ones service to our great nation, I am forever in their debt for their sacrafice.


May this Memorial Day bring you comfort in knowing that our Great Nation aknowledges and says "Thank You" for the sacrafice OURS and THEIR HEROES have made for us and them!


May we raise a glass to OUR HEROES! We love you...We miss you...We are proud of you....We are forever YOURS!

A Letter to the Fort Hood Sentinel Concerning the 4ID Memorial Wall

For those who are not aware, on 8April2010, a car "accident" occurred at Ft. Hood causing damage to the 4ID Memorial Wall.  The damage occurred at the area of the Wall where both mine and Deb's husbands' plaques were located.  We have both taken this very badly.  Without getting into what I think happened to cause the "accident", I simply want to share a letter I wrote to the Fort Hood Sentinel about how I feel and what the 4ID Memorial Wall means to me.  One personal note... at one point I make reference to Col Phillip Bataglia and his wife Diane.  Col Diane Bataglia is the rear-d commander for III Corps and has been in charge of how this situation has been handled.  I know if she reads my letter, she will not miss the point I am trying to make to her and I do not want anyone else to miss my point either.  I pray she will do the right thing.

To the Fort Hood Sentinel:

I have been trying to write this letter for over a week, but I am not sure how to put into words exactly what I want to say or how to explain what I am feeling.  A little over a week ago, I got a text message from a friend.  It said, "Did you hear what happened to the 4ID Memorial Wall?"  I immediately called my friend who explained to me that a soldier had driven his car into the Wall.  She had just found out that morning and was on her way over there to see what the damage was.  I asked her what happened and she said she did not know the details, just that it had happened on Thursday during lunch.  I immediately went online to read about it.  The only thing I could find was a small article in the Killeen Daily Herald which basically said nothing.  It was not even mentioned on any of the Ft. Hood websites.  When my friend got to the 4ID Memorial Wall, I explained to her where my husband's plaque was located.  It was no longer there.  The area of the 4ID Memorial Wall where my husband's name was, along with 2 other soldiers from his unit, was destroyed.

 

What I felt at hearing those words is indescribable.  I have memories of my husband taking me to the Wall, pointing out names of Soldiers he knew and then telling me about them. I remember how he touched each plaque and how his voice broke just a little.  After my husband's death, I remember being dropped off at my husband's unit for the 4ID Memorial Ceremony, looking across the road at the 4ID Memorial Wall, and realizing his name would one day be added to it. This was a comfort to me because when my husband and I had discussed what he wanted should something happen to him, he had asked that his name be on a military wall at the cemetery where we had his funeral. That wall contains the names of his Grandfather and several other family members who had served the United States during a period of war. When making arrangements for his funeral I was told that wall was full and they did not have future plans to expand it. His name would never be added and I felt I had let him down.  So I found some comfort in knowing his name would be on a wall with Soldiers, some of whom he knew and cared about. And on the day of the dedication, I cannot begin to explain the pain and pride I felt at seeing his name on the 4ID Memorial Wall for the first time.

 

I do not have a grave site to go to so for the 3 years I remained at Ft. Hood, I often went to the 4ID Memorial Wall to lay flowers, talk to him or simply to cry.  At the 4 BCT Change-of-Command Ceremony, our brigade commander, COL Michael Beech and his wife Kathy asked me to stand beside them.  I remember looking at the 4ID Memorial Wall sitting just at the edge of the parade field and thinking what an honor it is to stand there representing the families of the Soldiers we lost... Soldiers whose names were there on the Wall.  When I was introduced to the new brigade commander, COL Phillip Battaglia and his wife Diane, I wanted to point at the Wall and say PLEASE don't forget them!  After the ceremony I walked over to the Wall to spend time with my husband.

 

I have a love/hate relationship with the 4ID Memorial Wall.  Some days when I needed to go on post, I would drive longer routes in order to avoid driving in that area.  Other days I would find myself driving in that direction, just needing to be there where I feel closest to him.  It is perhaps harder for me because my husband's unit was located across the road.  There are just so many memories there... meeting him at his office, family organization day, taking him dinner when he had staff duty on our anniversary, meeting his soldiers, leaving love notes in his truck, how every time we came on post he had to drive by there just to make sure everything was okay, and telling him goodbye before he left for Iraq. The last time I touched him, kissed him, felt his warmth and felt his arms around me was there, across the road from the 4ID Memorial Wall.  Standing there at the Wall, next to his plaque, I can see and remember it all. 

 

As members of my army family moved away, it became too hard for me to be near Ft. Hood and last year I moved.  The day before I left, I took flowers and laid them at my husband's plaque and said goodbye to my husband again.  The part of him that came home to me, took care of me, and loves me is the man I carry in my heart, but the Soldier who stood proud in his uniform, looked out for his soldiers, and fought for his country is still there.  He is there, watching and waiting for his soldiers, his friends, to come have a cigarette and leave one for him; to be promoted there; to take that important step toward healing; to bring their family so they can point to his name, touch his plaque and with a slightly broken voice tell them his story...

 

Only his name is no longer there and I have questions.  Why did I hear about this from a friend five days after it happened?  For every plaque missing from that Wall, a personal phone call should have been made to the families.  When I did finally receive a response to my questions, it was very nonchalant, as if the only thing that mattered is that the Wall would be fixed. This is not about concrete, stone, and plates of bronze!  It is about love, honor, and remembrance! I have tried in every conceivable way to figure out how this could in any way be an accident and I cannot.  I have not made any judgments against the soldier driving the car, but I do want to know the truth. Next week is the 4-year "angel-versary" of my husband's death and I need to know why there is no plaque hanging on that Wall with my husband's name on it.  What I wanted to say 3 years ago, I am saying now... I am pointing at that Wall and saying PLEASE don't forget them!  Do not hide, downplay, or spin this story.  The tears of the families have soaked those stones and we deserve to know the truth. 

 

LaNita Herlem

Proud Widow of SFC Bryant A. Herlem 

 

  

Life Of A Widow....

I am tired of being strong. I am tired of being a widow. I am tired of being alone, Im tired of the unexpected, Im tired of the whispering, Im tired of the looks, Im tired of wanting what I cant have, Im tired of being tired....Simply put IM TIRED!

Our NEW reality, our NEW normal, our NEW lives. . .  is not something we wanted or asked for but something we were handed and couldnt hand back like and ugly pair of pants that make our butts look too big. This was non refundable, this was non exchangeable, this was no returns accepted!  We were handed it and although the devistation was immediate, crippling and world crushing; the pride that came at that moment was one thing that we knew was there at that moment as well. The pride that our husbands made the ultimate sacrifice for their country, our country, our families, American families. We were now a part of history, not one we wanted but one that was now written in ink, could not be errased could not be changed, could not be rewritten. We were in black ink, for all to know and study. You know kinda like a science experiment with mold....watch and see what it will do, morph into!?!?

For a widow, we now have two lives; our "old" lives or as we call it our "before" life and our "new" life or our "after" life.  We long for the "before" life when we felt so alive, in love, happy and had plans that reached beyond a war and the irritations of the moment. We were going to be that "happily ever after" story that everyone else longed for. We were going to grow old WITH the love of our lives. We were going to have children, watch them grow, get married, grandchildren, front porch matching rocking chairs..these was our lives, our hopes and our dreams. Then in a split second in time our lives changed. And we now had a "before" and "after" life. What now?

Life as we know it does not stop to allow us to grieve. Bills still had to be paid, children taken care of, school, work, cleaning, laundry, groceries. And although we do get some help with some of these things most of us were doing this with no help. Our daily lives were now colliding with our grieving lives. As we struggle to come to terms with what just happend and in the midst of constantly shaking our heads in disbelief we start to try and find a way to make our new and old lives mesh.  This for me was the hardest part. I missed Chris and still do everyday but trying to figure out how to be who I was then and who I am now was nothing close to a magic trick...one Im still trying to perfect I might add. It seems as though that damn bunny comes out black when I want it white and white when it should be black. Most of the time the flowers that appear are not what I expected, but I keep trying in hopes that one day Ill have the perfect magic trick and all will be in sync...yeah I know....good luck right? But the meshing of the two lives is the hardest. Mainly because you fight with yourself all the time. We can be and for the most part ARE happy in our new lives, but that takes time, practice and concentration. And while were are trying to balance that we are missing, longing and wanting our old lives. We are in essence...."life bipolar" sufferers.  One minute happy in our new life and in an instance...*poof* we are longing for our old life and sad agian. This is us, who we are and how we live now. Aint is grand?

Then there comes the balance between our old lives and those we knew us in them and our new lives and where each of them fits and if they even can. So many cant handle the new us, the "W" word seems to put people into an overdrive of "Oh My God how do I react"?  Here I have a little bit of advice for those people, I became the widow, I lost everything, Im the one in pain, Im the one struggling to make sense of what just happend and what this means for the rest of my life. Why then is it so hard for you to just be there, love me and make me laugh when I need it, or lend me a shoulder?  I need "normal" in my life not weirdness. I need stories about him, laughter, memories all the stuff we use to do. You are not the one who is suffering and grieving and although you may feel for me, you are not me. Just love me and if you cant...GO AWAY! The last thing a widow needs is people who think its all about them or that they know so much they constantly tell you how to handle it or what you should be doing. "Should be doing", yes becuase they have been through it and have every right to share their non-experience advice with us!  Hell widows dont even do that with each other. And as I always say, we are in the same ocean but different boats and I can no more tell another widow how she should be doing or how she should be feeling, so I can promise someone who has never been in our shoes, you cant either and you shouldnt!  Family seems to have a huge problem with this too. They seem to think you should be "over it" after a year. This one amazes me the most, "over it" is not a cold, its not a traditional wound that can he healed with neosporin and a bandaide...but man dont we wish it could at times? This is basically a life sentense for us. We live it, breathe it and fight with it every day of our lives. There are better day and there are worse days. There are days that bring us to tears for no reason at all and there are days that we are happy, content and full of life. But even in those days we are still missing them, loving them, longing for them and wanting nothing more than to just be with them for a split moment if that is all we get. This is our LIFE...our REALITY!

Being a widow is like being a snake that has a skin to shed but cant find the right rock to help pull it off. So we walk around with it hoping it will shed one day knowing that at some point we will have to do it all over again.  Each year, each anniversary, each birthday, each special moment and memory makes that skin tighter and all we want to do is shed if for a moment and feel free to breathe normally. But just as a snake knows, soon the skin will get too tight need to be shed again. At times breahing becomes hard and you feel suffocated but there is always someone (usually a widster) that can help you breathe again.

The life of a widow....is pain, loss, sorrow, weakness, tears, missed dreams, missed futures, mising the past missed children, missed life and what ifs out the wazoo. 

The life of a widow......is love, memories, pride, strength, laughter, support, confidence, power, honor, future, life, children, goals, accomplishments, sister hood of widsters.

But most of all...

The life of a widow...is making these mesh!