Pass the Tissues

There are a lot of things my town does right, and one of them is our Veteran’s Day parade. Every November 11th as I stand on a street corner waving at veterans and listening to the shouts of children I feel very pleased to live in small town middle America where the people take great pride in stopping work long enough to wave some flags and show their gratitude for freedom. We don’t squabble over saying a prayer at football games, or saying Merry Christmas either, but that’s another post for another day. We keep it pretty simple around here and don’t get too knotted up in political correctness. We’re fine and dandy with showing our patriotism, and that’s why our Veteran’s Day parade is so much fun. But as Truvie says in Steel Magnolias, laughter through tears is one of my favorite emotions, so I usually don’t get through the parade without a few tears.

It’s the children. They do it to me every time. With their cute little faces and enthusiasm. School buses roll into our downtown area right before the parade, unloading hundreds of children who line the parade route and wave and shout words of thanks to the veterans walking and riding by.

The sap in me usually starts getting misty eyed even before the first step. There’s just something about seeing children with flags mingling with old folks that gets my tear ducts stirred up, especially when the kids starting chanting “U-S-A”.

I actually held it together pretty well this year until….until this girl had to go and do this right in the middle of the street:

And then…and then this little boy did this:

And it just sent me over the edge.

Good grief. I should buy stock in Kleenex.

Sentimental Journey

This should come as no surprise by now, but the local Veteran’s Day parade is among the long list of things that make me cry. If I ever get a role in a local production of Steel Magnolias, I want to be Truvey because “happiness through tears” is apparently my favorite emotion. I can’t seem to help it. Every year I watch the parade as it passes in front of my workplace. Every year I try to hold that bottom lip still, and every year I have to pick it up off the curb. This year was no different.

Our community does a good job of saluting its veteran’s on Veteran’s Day, I think. Employees from the downtown business district come outside to watch the parade, and schools from all over the region bring in busloads of children who wave their flags from the sidewalks and yell out their thanks to the veterans who walk and ride by on floats. And it’s always the school kids who make my eyes start to well up, especially the really young children.

But it’s the veterans who keep me from staying composed, with their smiles.

And quiet gestures, like the occasional wave to a stranger.

Or a salute.

Or a connection with one of their own.

And respect from those who understand the price paid for being able to wave a flag on a city street.

Or perhaps paid that price.

And while I thought for just one tiny moment, I was going to be able to keep that fat tear from sliding down my cheek this year, this sign drifted across my lens and pushed that tear and a few of its buddies to my chin.
I don’t know who Papa Raymond was but that sign sent my soul on a sentimental journey to those years ago when my long dead grandpa shared his World War II stories. As I sat on the curb pretending to take pictures, I kicked myself for succumbing yet again to my emotions.

However, as I type this many hours later, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided that the day I don’t feel the emotion behind the waves and salutes and flag waving, will be a sad day indeed. Perhaps, it’s a good thing that I always cry at the parade.

Pass me a Tissue

Y'all know I'm a sap who will shed a tear at anything sentimental, including a good Hallmark commercial or a toddler's hug. Well, you know what makes me smile and tear up, all at the same time? Fifty school kids who take a forty minute bus ride to stand in the cold rainy weather, line the block and shout "thank you" and "we love you" to veterans marching in a Veteran's Day parade.With their homemade signs.
And you know what made two tears slide down my cheek? When the veteran in this Jeepwho thought I was with those school kids, slowed down and said solemnly, "Thank you for bringing the kids." Lord help me, it's a good thing no one played Taps or I would have puddled up and slid right down the storm drain.