Remembering....

I love Memorial Day! All through my childhood, it meant family time together, start of summer vacation, those lazy days of no school...picking black eyed peas (yeah, that was fun!)...riding horses with my brother, finding adventures in the pasture and beyond...."camping out" in the front yard (we lived in the country)...bare feet in the thick St. Augustine grass...drinking out of the water hose...watching for Pawpaw's bright orange T & P truck in the afternoons. Stories would be told of my daddy...uncles...grandfathers and great-grandfathers who had served this great country. As i grew older, I learned exactly what the holiday meant and that meaning became more special after I married a "soldier". Our kids were raised going to the "farm" on Memorial Day with all the extended family...the back porch full of beds where children fell in after a day of running through the pasture...the raising of the flag on Monday morning...the most delicious food you have ever tasted...fishing...shooting the guns in the woods....so many things that, sadly, are now just memories. But sweet memories. I am thankful that Jack and Sam got to enjoy a little of that with their Pappy. Our last time fishing together was Memorial Day 2009. Sam, with the help of Nathan, got his first fish...Roy and Brad went up a few days early to get everything ready, and to fish....time I know meant so very much to both of them. And, Roy and I sat on the bank of the lake fishing...and talking....about how, despite our family's trials, our life was so very great...and blessed. I will never forget that conversation. After Roy died, Memorial Day took on an entirely different meaning for me. Because of his service in the Army, he is buried at the DFW National Cemetery. Roy never would have bragged about his service because, to him, it was an honor to serve this nation. As a young man, he left the University of North Carolina just a semester shy of graduation to enlist in the Army. It was the Vietnam era. Very quickly, he was recognized as a potential leader and went to Officer Candidate School. He flew helicopters. In fact, he trained at Fort Wolters in Mineral Wells. Who knew this 10 year old girl lived just a few miles away from where the love of her life was learning to fly! Many people called them "flyboys"...said their boots never touched the ground. I'm not sure what war they were in, but Roy spent many hours with his boots on the ground. After dropping supplies, he would get a call that someone was wounded and he would fly his little helicopter in, jump out, pick them up and take them back to camp, all while being fired upon...leaving no one behind. He spent time in the jungle after being shot down on more than one occasion. He would fly out from behind a bank of trees to draw fire from the enemy so that the Hueys could come in and attack. Perhaps his most poignant story he ever shared with us was about his fellow pilot, Walter Olinsky. Walter was younger than Roy and Roy looked after him. Walter's name is on the Vietnam Memorial Wall. He was flying a mission to drop supplies and as he was returning to camp, he took heavy enemy fire. Roy was on the radio with him and tried so hard to help him put his chopper down. But it was just too damaged. Roy talked to him until he crashed and then prayed for his friend as his soul took the ultimate flight to heaven. He tried to forget alot of things....but Walter was not one of them. Walter lived on in Roy's memory. I love to look at the polaroid pictures he took...the times were not funny but it seemed they tried to find humor in many things. Some people think that it's more funny that while he was flying helicopter missions in Vietnam, I was practicing my penmanship in Elementary School. I like to think that God knew that the little girl at J.W. Bishop Elementary would need Roy Tyndall someday. Roy was awarded medals too numerous to name...over 1,000 hours of combat flight hours...the Bronze Star Medal for an act of bravery that was to painful for him to share with us....it was just something he had to do. We don't know alot of stories about his time in Vietnam, but that doesn't matter. He was our hero...still is. Shortly before he died, he began to write letters to some of his nephews and to his grandsons to be given to them with one of his medals. He chose each medal with care and wrote why he was giving it to them. He didn't finish all the letters, but he did put their names on the medals. I hope that as they receive these, they will be proud of their Uncle Roy...Pappy....Grandpa. And so each Memorial Day, I go to the DFW National Cemetery for the ceremony there. Hundreds of flags line the driveways all throughtout the cemetery. It is full of families who have lost loved ones...some who's loss is so fresh, they weep openly at the graves of their loved one...families who bring their families so that they can learn about the patriotism in its most raw form....Vets looking for someone they knew...passing out roses to any woman sitting at a gravesite. Tears flow freely....how can they not...it is an unending sea of grave markers...each acknowledging a hero. Each year, someone comes by where I am sitting, reads Roy's headstone, and thanks me for his service. I did not lose my hero in war. But just a little over a year ago, I received a letter from the U.S. Military acknowledging Roy's extreme exposure to Agent Orange and how that played a part in his death from heart disease. It doesn't change anything...it doesn't bring him back...but it does remind me that because he loved this country and chose to serve, he will never be forgotten. I know we will never forget him...he is the love of my life...and until the day I see him again, I will honor his memory and his legacy every single day of my life. He was a man of God, an incredible son and brother, husband and father, Pappy and Grandpa, son-in-law, uncle, brother-in-law and friend...and the most amazing man I have ever known. On this Memorial Day...don't forget to remember....have a blessed and safe holiday with your family and friends...but please, don't forget to remember....