A Slice of Life on Memorial Day 2026

No wonder I am confused. Here is the holiday and we have the better part of a week to go before the end of May which is when I think of the holiday occuring. A bit of investigation got me straightened out. Memorial Days are designated to fall on the last Monday of May. So, next year it will really be on the month- the thirty-first.

My beloved Alabama primroses.

My dear father died on May 24 fifty-four years ago and was buried on Memorial Day. This holiday is always tinged with sadness for me. He was not a soldier being too young for WW I and to old for WW II or maybe it was that he was married and I had just been born. I still mourn that he did not get to see his grandchildren grow up. He didn’t get the take them on hikes and show them how to find a sassafras leaf if they were thirsty. Chewing on the stem made one’s mouth moist. There were stories and so much else.

May is a beautiful time of year. When I had a garden (which is what he taught me to do) by now it was a glory of vegetables and flowers.  Flowers still bloom even though the larger world is fraught with wars and famine and outbreaks of hantavirus and Ebola. Our democracy is in great trouble.

A clematis growing on my garden house in 2017.

This morning I read Heather Cox Richardson’s essay on Memorial Day. I thank her for the quote she included from a letter by a soldier who would lose his life in the Civil War. All day I have reflected on it, on the tenderness we human beings are capable of, and on our current state of affairs.

Major Sullivan Ballou of Providence, Rhode Island, wrote his letter to “My Very Dear Wife,” Sarah on July 14, 1861. Ballou wanted to help her understand why he was willing to give up his life for his country.

“If it is necessary that I should fall on the battle-field for my country, I am ready,” he wrote. “I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American civilization now leans upon the triumph of government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution, and I am willing, perfectly willing to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this government, and to pay that debt.”

“Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables, that nothing but Omnipotence can break; and yet, my love of country comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains, to the battlefield.

“The memories of all the blissful moments I have spent with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up, and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and seen our boys grow up to honorable manhood around us.”

Ballou fell at the Battle of Bull Run. Sarah never remarried.

Our used-to-be turnip patch going to seed.

Here on Memorial Day 2026 in our divided and warring country let us remember that our ancestors’ love and struggles allowed us to be here today. They showed us the way. Let us honor and thank them. Let us all be together, love one another, seek the truth, and sing it out.