Mom and Dad right after they got married.
So this Memorial Day is the same old thing. People are cooking out. People are going to the lake. People are visiting relatives, going to cemeteries to remember long lost loved one, and maybe having a beer or two. I remember past Memorial Day’s as being a day where we get together with family and friends and we got along for Heaven’s sake.
Some relatives graves in Illinois
Friends of the family, David Jones with wife and son at Remmel Dam in Hot Springs
Dad would bar-b-q some chicken on the grill with a towel around his neck. He wore his blue jean overalls without a shirt. A large clear glass full of ice water next to him. Aunts, uncles, cousins and close friends of the family would join him in the yard under the shade tree.
How I wish I had more pictures of him. My mind can only remember the big picture of how he was. All the little details, down to the color of his eyes are hard for me to imagine now. It has been almost 34 years since I lost my dad to a major heart attack. He was only 44 years old. I’m only 3 years away from being 44. I can’t imagine how he felt that last summer he was alive.
Dad was proud of his tomatoes
I remember a couple of years before his passing, he had gone to Florida to visit some family. He brought someone with him that looked like his twin brother. When he pulled in the drive, I ran out the back door yelling “I got two daddy’s!”
Uncle Johnny, daddy, aunt Virginia and JW
Actually it was his Uncle Frankie. The spiting image of dad and I became very close to him as well. I loved having Great Uncle Frankie around. It wasn’t long after dad’s passing that Uncle Frankie returned to Florida. I’m not sure exactly what he did in between that time, my memory fails me but I know he was around a lot. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of Uncle Frankie.
Dad with his siblings
My dad also had a younger brother, Uncle Johnny, who also was around a lot but did live in Florida and came to visit. He still comes to visit to this day but only to see his sister, Aunt Virginia.
Dad’s mom Margaret, who also died young and who I favor most.
It seemed to me that we were always going to visit dad’s relatives but they didn’t visit us much, as it is also with relatives on my mom’s side.
Me, Tommy, Tony and my little brother Sans at a laundry mat in Sheridan, Arkansas.
Memorial Day would be a whole weekend of visiting relatives or going on a trip to Petty Jean. He would load us kids up in the back of his pick-up, back when it wasn’t illegal not not buckle up, and ride on Highway 270 to Lake Catherine in Hot Springs or go to the big Pine Bluff Flea Market on Hwy 270 on Sunday Morning.
Dad when he was in the Army in Okinawa
Memorial Day sure has changed over the years. It was about family and friends or short day trips. People just don’t get together like they used to do. Conflict, jealousy and hatred has been more the norm than the usual for those in my family and those around me. “Keeping up with the Jones” has been taken to heart.
Old pick-up dad had that we rode in the back of
To go back to those days, growing up, where cleaning up the yard, cook outs and short trips were the good old days that the new generation growing up now doesn’t know much about would be awesome. I think there are probably are families who are still doing those sort of things but finding them are few and far in between.
Uncle Johnny
Memorial Day is a day to remember those loved ones who passed. The person who held the family together. The person who made things happen. The person who could get sisters and brothers together despite the hatred between them. They would get together all for this person but now that person is gone. Whether it be grandpa, grandma, Great Uncle Charlie, long lost Aunt Betty, cousins or second cousins, we did the family thing “just because.”
As I sit here writing this, I know that we can never go back. We can never bring back those loved ones. We can never recreate such scenes in life as those in our memories. So if I could say something to the one person who was the back bone of our family, I would say:
“Dad, I miss you. I wish you were here. You kept our family together and I hate you for dying on us when we needed you most. I’m sorry for not being there when you died and I didn’t tell you how much I loved you on the phone that night before. I hope you are in Heaven and I will one day see you again. If you aren’t in Heaven, then I pray that your memories will forever be preserved for me to think about since you won’t be with me in body or spirit. Daddy, you left a big hole in my heart. It has only crusted over with time. You may be gone in body but I know, in spirit, you have been my Guardian Angel.
I miss you, your daughter, Tootsie.”
