There are certain days throughout any year that just sorta
mark the passage of time. They become
signals of what time of year it is.
Birthdays are like that.
Christmas and Easter are certainly like that, signaling mid-winter and
spring. There’s another day around these
parts that is always like that to me… Memorial Day (or Homecomin’) at the
church. This is a day when we
memorialize all the members of the church that have passed over the past year,
we decorate every single grave in the cemetery with flowers, and end with a
cover-dish meal afterward
The preparation began several days before, as the last of
the flowers were harvested from all around the yards in all the sundry
flowerbeds. Those were put in buckets of
water to let them soak. Mom and
Grandmother would get out the flower pots to do the flower arrangements in and
clean them from last year (and a whole year of storage). The Saturday before Memorial Day is when all
the final preparations were done. Flower
arrangements were done, one for every grave of a family member in the cemetery. Food was prepared for taking the next
day. Picnic baskets and the like were
all found in storage, cleaned out, and prepared for the next day’s use. Clothes were chosen for the coming day and
any ironing needed was taken care of. It
was a day full of preparations of one sort or another.
The Memorial Day service was always followed by a cover-dish
lunch. Back in the day, we didn’t have a
Fellowship Hall to hold such events. The
men folk would stretch chicken wire supported by short poles between two big
maple trees in the church yard. Come-alongs
(wenches) were used to apply tension to the soon-to-be table, and the poles
were straightened to support the table about every 10 feet or so. White tablecloths would be spread the length
of that “table” on Sunday morning. What
a beautiful sight it was to see those tablecloths gently fluttering in the
breeze as family after family brought picnic baskets, boxes and crates and put
their contribution to a feast to end all feasts out on the table. Then the baskets and boxes were neatly
stacked underneath. Years later,
sawhorses and plywood was used to create the tables, then covered with white
paper tablecloths. Nowadays, we have the
luxury of a Fellowship Hall where tables can be laid, along with places to sit
for the folks. It was (and is) one of
the grandest buffets I’ve ever seen… and the smells wafting from those picnic
baskets and boxes were enough to drive ya crazy.
Memorial Day was when we got to see cousins that we hadn’t
seen in awhile, and there seemed to always be relatives there that we’d never
met before. Mom would always introduce
us, and hugs were expected as we met Great Aunt Somebody or Other that we had
never seen before. This was almost
always followed by “Goodness gracious, Jus’ look how you’ve grown!”, then
ending with a tale about when we were babies or some such thing. Us kids were never really interested, but we
always knew we had a part to play in the howdy’s and carrying’s on of that day,
so we stood and weathered all the hugs and cheek pinches, smiling when we
thought we were supposed to and acting all interested. (My Dad always made a big deal out of us kids
behaving… so we knew what was expected at these sorts of thing.)
The church is always filled to the brim at the Memorial Day
service. Some years it’s a “come early
or you don’t get a seat” sort of thing… mostly nowadays it’s just a full
house. There’s always a guest speaker
that Sunday (usually a preacher we’ve had in the past at some point), but first
there’s the memorials. The names are
read of each church member that passed since last Memorial Day, and a candle is
lit in their memory. Songs are sung,
prayers are prayed and the sermon is preached.
It’s a solemn time of remembering, but a joyous time as well, as
families come together and friends from far away come home again.
After the benediction, we all adjourn to prepare for the
cover-dish lunch. This is when the
smells start making your stomach growl…. Homemade fried chicken, green beans,
peas, corn, ham biscuits, and pickles of all sorts… every vegetable you can
think of…. Casseroles of every kind, Jello molds and “the pink stuff” (a Jello
and fruit concoction)…. And plates of sliced tomatoes and deviled eggs. Off to one side is always the dessert
table. Us kids would always cruise this
section to see what the choices would be this year, and there was never a
shortage…. Chess pies, lemon pies, chocolate pies, every sort of cake and
cobbler you could think of, brownies, and sometimes even fudge. The rule was, however, that we had to clean
our plate before going to the dessert table to pick out our the best part of
the entire meal. Grown-ups would take
this time to visit and catch up with those they hadn’t seen in awhile, and us
kids always played or went walking in the cemetery to look at all the old
headstones.
After the lunch was over, it was time to pack up, share some
leftovers with others, say good-byes until next year, and head home. Usually, though, some of the cousins would
come over to Grandmother’s house (next door) and we’d visit and play some more,
while the men folk gathered at the card table and played Rook, and the women
folk would gather somewhere to discuss recipes, the latest news of the family,
and other such things. Us kids were
always made to change out of our Sunday Clothes into our “ever’day clothes”,
and went to play in the yard.
It was always a day to look forward to! It was a time to remember those gone before
us…. and it marked the beginning of Fall.
Soon the leaves would fall, the last of the harvests would be brought
in, and frost would once again blanket the yards and fields. Memorial Day became part of a larger “clock”
that marked the years, kept us close to family (even if they lived far away),
and was part of the rhythm that we came to know.
Some memories are unforgettable,
remaining ever vivid, and heartwarming.
- Joseph B. Wirthlin -
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