Unsung Heroes On Memorial Day

My Mom was one of those women on the silent front line during WWII in her personal and working life.

Unmarried and needing to support herself, help raise many siblings and giving of her time to anyone who needed help, she was a role model I admire today six years past her passing in 2014, into her 100th year.

WOMEN.  We're beginning to see more women in the forefront of life leading and following -- setting the pace and keeping it moving.  They've always been there; we just didn't acknowledge how critical their service was on the homefront.

She worked at Carter Carburetor, one of the main suppliers that kept the mechanics of war moving, the advancement of our troops into areas to liberate and free those who had been and were continuing to be starved, relocated and killed all in the name of power and control.

Mom was one of that generation's Silent Majority (see the 1960's for more reference to this term) and she sought no recognition, no reward other than to know she was there when she was needed.

Today, I saw on a Sunday program how a past trumpeter and a news specialist are asking anyone who plays the bugle and knows how to play Taps to play at 3 PM tomorrow, Memorial Day.

Yesterday my daughter and I went to Mom's gravesite. She's buried where she chose, in a small rural cemetery along with many of her family members, some from long ago generations -- cousins, friends, many like her who lived, loved and laughed and gave of their time and work and some their lives for others.

We brought peonies and iris from our home -- flowers given to us as small plants many years ago from Mom's oldest sister-- Mom loved to see them bloom each Spring. 

We saw many US Flags placed on graves including my Uncles'. 

I shared, as Mom taught me, placing one flower on each of the graves, acknowledging the women who stood beside these men. 

They were heros carrying on with life and managing households, families and even advancing pregnancies facing unknowns, uncertainties and, like today, not knowing what was happening and most importantly when it would end and how it would end.

I remembered one of Mom's last requests -- to have taps played.  We were told it was "only played" for Veterans.

Mom didn't wear a military uniform but every day from almost dawn to dusk she worked assembling machinery for the front line and formed a part of the supply chain ensuring those who did were supported in ways to move towards Peace and stopping the spread of hatred and abuse.

Isn't Peace and prosperity for all what we strive to create and isn't that a world centered and reason why so many braved the trip across the waters and still today struggle to gain entry into this nation formed as one from many?

Someone in our family did go to play taps for Mom after we left her with those she chose to be with for eternity. I am proud of what he did and proud that Mom, who was as vital to Freedom as those who could go into the direct action, was honored for her choice to serve, how she could, where and when she saw there was a need.

TAPS.  A greeting of farewell. Acknowledgement of sundown that follows the struggles of the day and the courage to face what it brought -- believing in tomorrow.

HONOR. TRIBUTE. COURAGE. Wearing the daily uniforms of life of the times to be recognized and honored for what they did and what they could do for one and for all.