A Poppy for Remembering

When I was a little girl, my grandmother always made a big deal out of observing Memorial Day. She'd wear one of those little red poppies on her dress. When I'd ask her about it, she'd say "A Poppy for Remembering."

Being a child, I was satisfied with that answer. It wasn't until much later that I learned the significance of Memorial Day. I think it might have been during or maybe shortly after the Vietnam War that I felt the intense emotion that rises in American Hearts when the flags are placed and parades held.

Still, I had forgotten all about Grandmother's little red poppy. Years passed and I grew into a teenager and then an adult. The little poppy was a long forgotten memory. As a teenager I learned that my grandmother had been a widow, her first husband was killed in France during World War I. The only way I learned of this was by finding his picture in his uniform and a picture of a grave site. When I asked, she told me of his death, took the scrapbook away and never mentioned it again.

Years later, when my grandmother was hospitalized near death, I sat by her bedside night and day. I awoke in the middle of the night to hear my eighty-six year old grandmother speaking French. When I asked her about it, she said she just happened to remember those phrases. In my entire life, I'd never heard her speak a word of French. When I asked her about it that morning she told me her first husband taught her the phrases when he was home on leave.

My grandmother passed away a couple days later and when we went through her things I found the old scrapbook with the pictures of her first husband and his grave site. Tucked between the pages was the little red poppy.http://www.cal-mum.com/poppy.html