Memorial Day has been seared into my heart because of my Dad. He was a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the US Army who piloted Search and Rescue missions over “The Hump” of China, Burma and India during World War II and later on worked in Army Intelligence during the Cold War. He often said that his place in life was to serve God, country and his family. I hated being number three on the list but over the years learned to live with it. My father died on a Memorial Day seventeen years ago; it wasn’t happenstance that was the day he left us. That was his way, his choice and it certainly made sense, given how he lived his life.
My father showed me the world; whether we were stationed in Heidelberg, Germany or Eatontown, NJ. Every place was an adventure. He was the one who taught me how to fold the American flag, make a bed so a quarter would bounce and to stop whatever I was doing, stand up and place my hand over my heart whenever I heard the National Anthem. I was his “Monkey”, and his lessons have made me who I am. He said:
1. There is no such word as “can’t”.
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2. The harder the hammering, the stronger the steel.
3. The world is your oyster.
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4. Treat everyone with respect.
5. Do what you love and love what you do.
I learned that my dad would take three minute power naps while waiting for takeoff clearance on the narrow landing strips in the jungles of Burma. He told me that he did that because he was nervous. He also lovingly placed the letters and pictures of his nieces in the cockpit with him for good luck. Today, somewhere in Afghanistan or Iraq, there is a brave serviceman or woman doing a similar thing. I thank them for their service, for following in my Dad’s footsteps and for keeping us safe and free.
