Memorial Day weekend is finally here. The unofficial start of summer. I am having a difficult time getting my head around this reality. I am pretty sure that we did not have a spring. The last thing I remember from winter was that there was a Super Bowl, although I can’t recall who won or even what teams competed. I can tell you who performed in the half time show however. That was memorable but probably for all of the wrong reasons.
There seems to be a gaping hole in the video tapes of my mind. It is almost as if someone purposely erased a whole season so that no one would ever see them. I know that I used to watch the Cosby show every Thursday night as a sanity break from my college studies. However, there is no longer any trace that Dr. Huxtable ever existed. Same thing for Fat Albert reruns. These were all clearly figments of my imagination.
The truth is that for the last several months, Monday feels like Friday, which feels like Sunday. Fortunately, I have been able to mark the time through this weekly blog. My wife and I have also been taking time each weekend to listen to some classic albums on the audio system (stereo for those older than 40). We have found great comfort listening to the likes of James Taylor, The Beach Boys and Carole King. The music reconnects us to perhaps happier times, and at least in our lives, more innocent ones where our parents shielded us from the harsh realities of life.
This subtle image, taken during one of our annual Memorial Day trips to Lewes, Delaware, has always resonated with me. It is a simple photograph, where the subjects are remnants of a bygone, and at least in my mind, a more romantic era. The graceful lines of sailboats were replaced long ago by monstrous, smoke-belching machines. More recently, the reassuring flash of the lighthouse has been obsoleted by the unseen signals broadcast by unmanned radar and GPS systems.
Yet, these two objects, both deemed unnecessary, came together as a reminder that although times change, we are still connected to our past. This image assures me that there is no gap in the space-time continuum. At some time I will be able to remember this spring as a time of both great suffering and unselfish heroism. Isn’t that what Memorial Day is all about?
