My Dad

When I think about Memorial Day, I think about my Dad. He was proudest when marching with his friends in the Memorial Day Parade every year as far back as I can remember.

He made it back from the harshness of war, New Guinea WW II. All the unspoken stories that he held in, that only a few ever knew about. All the friends he left behind on the battlefield. You could see and feel it when his mind wandered back to those thoughts of war.

Even as a little kid you felt that deep seriousness and you knew this was real. I've often felt soft in comparison, he was 18 or so going to boot camp, I imagine they boarded a train to San Francisco to ship out to some exotic world that not many understood.

Now I know why he was so proud and stood tallest every Memorial Day. It was for his brothers in arms still living and for the ones they left behind.

Really anything military I see brings me back to Howard D. Craig. He was his strongest and absolute best in that uniform representing his country when he was in action experiencing the terror of war first hand. He was one of the 20% that actually came back from those battles.

He was his finest marching in that parade and I can see his smile and moments of deep thought that took him back to the chaos of the modern warfare of the day. He was his finest marching in the Memorial Day Parade.

His story continued thankfully or I wouldn't be here. This is dedicated to him and his thoughts, of the ones left behind and the memories he carried so deep in his heart for a lifetime.

I'm so proud of that kind of family history.