Vartabedian: Memorial Day—Barbeques or Tributes?

Memorial Day is upon us.

Now let me see. Enough gas in the propane tank? Beef? Chicken? Salad? Beer and wine?

A time for my family to gather around the barbeque grill and enjoy a banquet? Wait a minute! Perhaps I have my priorities askew. Maybe I should host the holiday cookout on Sunday and spend Monday like it’s supposed to be observed.

I should gather my children together and encourage them to visit the burial grounds of their grandparents so when I bite the dust, they may come and pay some respect to me.

Admittedly, I’ve grown very lax in this department. We’ve never mandated a visit to the cemetery, even while they were young and I don’t believe they know the whereabouts of our family’s deceased.

It’s not like it used to be. Growing up, my folks would close their coffee shop and we would drive from Somerville to Bridgewater to visit the memorials of my father’s side of the family. On the way, we would stop by a brook and enjoy a picnic.

I remember once during inclement weather, he insisted on making the trip because he didn’t want to see that tradition broken. So we set out in the rain and with umbrellas over our heads, said our prayers over the graves.

Since my dad died 30 years ago, I can’t say I’ve been loyal to the ritual, given the distance and all from Haverhill. Truth be told, I doubt if anyone visits my grandmother’s grave anymore. It’s probably a barren sight these days, forlorn and pretty much neglected.

For years that followed, I would pick up my mother and off we would go to more familiar ground. We made the rounds from one cemetery to another, stopping for lunch in the interim, and observing the day in proper fashion.

We would plant our geraniums around the headstone, say a prayer, clear any brush, and off we’d go to the next site. Maybe you think I’m odd but I find cemeteries to be very tranquil and bucolic. Some of the best trees are found here, judging by the foliage.

And for that matter, I know people who choose to take their daily walks around the parameters. At least one woman I know has turned into a self-imposed groundskeeper. If there’s any trash to be found along her route, into the receptacle it goes. Nobody notices the kind deed and that’s the way she prefers it.

She tells me it’s the only place she knows where people don’t crave for the things they can’t afford.

Throughout my years at the paper, Memorial Day took on a more intrinsic meaning. Because many of my colleagues had “other” plans on the holiday, the assignment of covering our local parade fell upon me.

Not that I objected. I just felt that such a commemoration was important enough to warrant some attention in the media. I would begin my day by following the police entourage to its memorial, grab a cup of coffee at the station, then cover the parade.

It wasn’t anything like our Santa parade but every bit as important in its own humble way. A smattering of people could be found along the way but not the throngs you might expect. Then off we’d go to the American Legion for lunch and an interview or two.

Some of my best stories and photos reflected around Memorial Day, and the paper always gave it the full treatment for which I was obliged. When the crowd dispersed, my work was just getting started to meet an early deadline next day.

It wasn’t so much the overtime I would get paid because there wasn’t any. But I did manage to get compensatory time off. More important than all of that, it made me feel good to see Memorial Day given its justice.

Some of this luster has tarnished over time. The children still don’t adhere to it and I’m wondering if my grandchildren will ever set foot inside a cemetery. Once I’m gone, will anyone visit my mom and dad, my aunts and uncles, grandparents?

I don’t know how you will spend this day. Maybe you’ll also have a barbeque or get the yard in order, do some shopping perhaps. I find it repulsive that most every commercial venue is operating. Is nothing sacred anymore?

On this Memorial Day, wouldn’t it be idyllic if all of us observed the occasion for which it was intended? Attend a parade in your community, visit a gravesite, and pray for our deceased. Let us pay tribute to our ancestors who laid out the groundwork for this great country of ours before they were buried in it.

Bio
Latest Posts

Tom Vartabedian

Tom Vartabedian is a retired journalist with the Haverhill Gazette, where he spent 40 years as an award-winning writer and photographer. He has volunteered his services for the past 46 years as a columnist and correspondent with the Armenian Weekly, where his pet project was the publication of a special issue of the AYF Olympics each September.