Here it is …. the so-called unofficial start of summer …. and we’re celebrating Memorial Day once again in my neck of the woods ā Southern Westchester County in New York. In case youāre not familiar with the area, Manhattan is about a 45-minute drive south ā far enough away for us to be in the suburbs but close enough to get into NYC for a show or dinner if we want to. Weāre approximately an hour from Jones Beach heading east out to Long Island and 2 hours from the Catskill Mountains up north.
Weāre in a nice spot and weāve loved living here for 45+ years but we often bring up the topic of making a move. And why would we do that if itās so nice here? Two big reasons: stupid-high property taxes and ever-increasing congestion.
Our little village was exactly that when we moved here; now the population has exploded and every family member old enough to drive has a car. We live on a very quiet cul de sac and never think about the congestion in town until we actually have to go to town. What used to be a 5 minute drive to the supermarket or post office is now triple that (or more) because of the number of cars, trucks and school buses on the move .ā¦ and letās not even start talking about road work! Thereās construction everywhere we look and some of it takes years to accomplish. By then, itās time to start repairs again! Move it!
So, if we did decide to leave New York, the big question is ā¦. where would we move to? I have no idea! It seems like everyone complains about the same problems of high taxes and too much congestion no matter where they live. Besides, the physical act of clearing out the house, packing up, moving and relocating at this stage of our lives is daunting; I can barely manage packing for vacation!
Things to think about, for sure. For now, I think Iāll move out onto the deck, sit in my lounge chair, drink my iced tea and listen to the birds. Bill will light the grill around 2PM; now that you know where I live, cāmon over!
It’s time to roll out some Nat King Cole and “Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer”!
āYou know, Jack, itās been a while since we visited your parents.” Diane put her gardening tools down and glanced up at her husband who was busy painting the backyard fence. Her heart always did a little flip when she looked at him; at 50 he still had his dad Henry’s rugged good looks and his mom Alice’s mass of blonde curls. āWhy donāt we drive over for Memorial Day?ā
āThatās a swell idea, hon! Funny, but I was just thinking about my folks the other day. Thanks for always remembering.ā Jack was that ridiculously likeable guy who said words like “swell” and nobody gave it a second thought. Diane grinned at him like she always did.
Diane stood up and tossed her gloves onto the porch. āIt would be wonderful if we could get the kids together. Iām going to call the boys; if they donāt have any plans maybe they can wrangle the grand kids and join us. It would be such a nice day with the family.ā
Jack and Diane had two sons ā Rob and his wife Kelly had 5-year-old twin boys Kyle and Kevin while Mark and his wife Janice had a 4-year-old daughter named Sophie. When COVID came along two and a half years ago, visiting was curtailed for everyone. It seemed even more cruel since the family lived only 15 minutes apart and used to get together all the time.
While Jack and Diane were good about keeping in touch with the kids via computer, that wasnāt the case for Jack’s parents, āPopsā and āMimsā ; they couldn’t be bothered with all that “new techno gadgetry“. Their Philips transistor radio on the kitchen counter and a rotary dial phone on the side table in the living room was good enough for them.
Due to social distancing, Rob and Mark were unable to bring the kids to visit their great-grandparents. The kids didnāt get to know āPopsā and āMimsā very well or learn about some of the amazing things they did, like the years they spent in Vietnam.
Diane called Rob and Mark via FaceTime ā their lifeline over the past twenty-eight months. Now that socializing restrictions had been lifted, Diane asked her sons if theyād like to get together for Memorial Day and pay a visit to “Pops” and “Mims”. The short drive was easy for everyone and Diane planned a family dinner after their visit. Mark and Rob thought it was a great idea. Kyle and Kevin were really into the military superheroes like Captain America, Iron Man, Hulk, Deadpool and Spider-Man and would love hearing stories about their great-grandparentās tour of duty in Vietnam.
Henry was a medevac helicopter pilot flying unceasing perilous missions and Alice held down the arduous assignment of an army triage nurse. They met in the jungles of South Vietnam and fell in love; their love for each other was one of the few good things to come out of the carnage of Vietnam. As soon as they returned to The States, they got married and Jack was born one year later. Henry and Alice made military life their careers and Jack was an āarmy bratā ā something else the kids would enjoy hearing about.
Married members of the military usually have the highest priority for private housing ā both on and off base ā so Henry and Alice chose to live in their own house on base with their son Jack.
Dianeās parents owned a popular bar and burger joint a couple of klicks from the army base; thatās where Jack met Diane who was working as a waitress. The place was called āThe Pink Palaceā because all the houses and barracks on the base were painted various shades of pink. Just like Alice and Henry, love was in the air for Jack and Diane. The couple got married in the little church on base and settled down in the nearby town of Alexandria, Virginia where Jack was working as a carpenter.
Now 25 plus years had gone by and it didnāt seem possible to Diane. Folks often say āDonāt blinkā when talking about life, raising a family, kids growing up, people passing away, etc. Logically Diane understood the inevitability; emotionally was another story and she found that old feeling of nostalgia worming its way into her heart. Diane suddenly was filled with melancholy knowing that Kyle, Kevin and Sophie missed so much time with “Pops” and “Mims”. Her momentary period of sadness vanished as soon as she caught sight of her grandchildren.
Kelly and Janice had dressed the kids in blue and white outfits, their faces scrubbed and their light blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. The boys waved little flags while Sophie carried a wicker basket of red carnations. “Popsā was extremely fortunate to have returned home from Vietnam and he realized Memorial Day didn’t apply to him but he regarded it as a deeply sacred day. He lost a lot of good friends there, too many young men to count. Memorial Day was for them and all those selfless men and women from every war who never made it home.
Jack and Diane held hands as they walked down the path, ready to greet his parents; their little family followed closely behind. Finally they reached the neatly trimmed grass still glistening in the morning dew. Before them, in gleaming white marble stood the final resting place of Jackās parents ā an immaculate plot at Arlington National Cemetery. The family was devastated when they lost both āMimsā and āPopsā just one year after COVID hit; they both survived the ravages of the Vietnam War but didnāt have the strength for this virulent virus.
The family stood by the grave site as Jack read the inscription:
HENRY JOHN CONWAY CAPTAIN, MEDEVAC PILOT UNITED STATES ARMY JULY 20, 1950 ā FEBRUARY 11, 2020 AND WIFE ALICE FITZGERALD CONWAY TRIAGE NURSE UNITED STATES ARMY NOVEMBER 2, 1950 ā FEBRUARY 24, 2020
Jack rested his hand on his parentās headstone and everyone was very quiet. Sophie placed her basket of carnations on the ground and Kevin and Kyle stuck their little flags in on either side.
The sun shone brightly in the blue sky, as warm and radiant as one of “Mims” smiles. Off in the distance was the sound of a bugle playing Taps, whispering to them it was time to leave. It was a lovely visit, the perfect Memorial Day salute to āPopsā and āMimsā.
The Elephant's Trunk 