Since this blog is essentially about exploring memories, it seems appropriate to start with my memory of Memorial Day. About a week before Memorial Day, my grandmother ordered 2 dozen American Beauty Roses. They filled the house with their scent and sat on our kitchen table until we took them to my Grandfather’s grave. The grandeur of the rare annual florist delivery is etched into my senses for as long as I can remember. Grandma had a somewhat Victorian approach to those who had passed. She never spoke of them and clung to keeping everything as much the same through time as possible.
We had a small business and were the dispatch for the local fire department. My family was always “home.” We never went anywhere as a family ever….well, except to the cemetery on Memorial weekend every year. No, we didn’t go on Memorial Day because that was a day for parades, presentations, and crowds at the cemetery. So, we would go on Sunday morning. Someone from the fire department, usual Ronald Fagerstrom the chief or Wesley Cox the deputy chief would provide security for our business and be ready to answer a fire call if necessary.
We would dress in our Sunday clothes and oddly rather enjoy the outing as a family. Grandma Marty sat in the front seat holding the vase of roses (always ALL the roses which was rather disappointing to have them all go to the gravesite). My younger Sister Lois, my Mom, and I sat in the back (sometimes Mom sat in the front too) and Dad drove the Buick Station Wagon to St. Anthony, Minnesota about 15 miles away. We sang songs in harmony on the trip. Not sure that was much appreciated by Grandma who didn’t sing with us. But, it was the rare chance to sing together as a family. We sang Battle Hymn of the Republic, Swing Low Sweet Chariot (I know – not very sensitive, I guess but the harmony was great), You Are My Sunshine, Down in the Valley, and Long Long Trail a Winding.
Grandpa Mac (William McKinley Zabel) is interred at Sunset Memorial Gardens. The family acquired the plots there when they purchased the business from Grandpa’s cousin (Brennan). Something could be said about purchasing a business which includes cemetery plots, maybe later. Our plots are just to the side of a mausoleum against a beautiful stand of Norway Pine and Cedar trees. We would go early often before the dew had burned off the newly mown Spring grass. Mourning Doves sang in the trees and there were flags and flowers as far as you could see. The veterans decorated the graves for the holiday. We picked up a metal star stake commemorating Grandpa’s service during WWI. He was in the 1st Calvary (more on that in another post). Sunset Memorial Gardens has only flat markers. Grandpa’s marker was the standard issue from the military. There was a mistake in his birthdate so dad had carved away part of the metal so it was correct. Grandpa Mac died from Stomach Cancer and also lost his left eye to cancer (both of my grandpas had impaired left eyes like I do… again another post in the future). Now my Grandma (Martha Christina Palmer Zabel) and my Dad (Richard Mac Zabel) are interred beside my Grandpa Mac.
On our way home, we often stopped at a friend’s home. Usually, it was Morris & Mae Helgeson who lived less than a mile from our home; but, since we never went anywhere as a family it was a treat to go to their home. Morris & Mae had beautiful flowers & a garden which was usually newly planted. They would serve us coffee (milk for the kids) and cookies. I think we even had sandwiches once or twice. Lois & I were on our best behavior of course. There was always some urgency to the visit because Grandma wasn’t accustomed to being away from home so she used “need to relieve the volunteer” as her excuse to rush the visit a little. Morris & Mae were from Dunn County North Dakota where my Grandmother grew up. They were of Norwegian decent and their home reflected that in the decoration and food.
Which brings me to the interior feelings of this annual event. I was generally completely stress out and anxious. So worried I would do something wrong or disappoint my parents. Emotions were high and I was always so concerned I would be reprimanded or blamed for the situations. There was no support, no explanation, no preparation. After several years of this, I would help Lois by explaining and watching out for her. We certainly didn’t have the typical family life at all. Though now I can focus on those beautiful roses and the love my Grandma had for her husband. I’ve learned to deal with death in a different way now that I’ve grown; I’m sure my childhood experiences facilitated that.
Lazytea Times 