posted on May, 24 2009 @ 09:08 PM
Memorial Day is a very special day for me. One day it will be a day for me, too. But I am not special. I just did my job and came back alive. And I
will die of old age. My great great grandfather was a Civil War hero. He lived in New Alexandria, Pennsylvania. He had a wife and children. He was
older, not a young man. But the old guy sure could produce some children at an older age. lol. He was given a pass to go home to visit hisn family. He
spent a couple days at his farm. And as he was eating his breakfast a rider came and was alerting all the farmer soldiers in the area that their
regiment was to report immediately and muster in an area nearby. So great great grandpappy James Gundy quickly put on his gear and took his musket,
kissed his dear wife goodbye and hugged his many children and started off at a brisk pace towards the muster area. His youngest son, my great
granddaddy, just a boy of 3, ran after him crying and screaming, "Papa, please don't go!" And my great great granddaddy stopped, told him to go
home and take care of his mother and turned andn walked quickly to destiny. The little boy yelled he loved him. And James Gundy called back over his
shoulder, "I love you, too!" And his family never saw him alive again. Note he never said, "I will be back." I think he knew his fate. And later
that day, he ran into a wall of little pieces of lead fired from Confederate guns. He was hit with a bullet in the face and fell over dead. Then next
day his wife came with a wagon and a mule and her kids and they retrieved his body and took him home to the family farm to be cleaned and clothed in
his finest and buried. My first name is the same as him, named to honor him. And eventually I was a volunteer for my country, too. But when I left for
my war, I told my wife and kids, "I will be back." And I not only believed it, I just knew it. And so tomorrow I will go visit the dead as I do most
every year and think not only about my great great granddaddy, I will think about all the veterans in the graves I pass and I will wonder what their
stories are. And as always I will cry like a big baby for their sacrifices and their families' sacrifices. And as I have done for the last quite a
few years, I will wonder if it was all worth this crap. And I have no doubt that I will stop on my wanderings through the graves and scream to the
sky, "Why???????" And maybe one day someone else will pass by my grave and ask, no, demand, the same. "Whyyyyyyyyyyyy?? WTF is this crap all
about?" And maybe I might be able to speak from the grave to this person, as my great great grand daddy sometimes does to me. "It's just the way of
the world. Seek a better way."