Yesterday was Memorial Day. I spent the weekend with my parents, siblings and their children at my sister's primitive cabin in the Uintah Basin in Utah. It was amazing. We ate too much food, had campfires way too big, stayed up late playing games and watched the ISS and the Milky Way in the sky. I got to play cribbage to my heart's content. Blue went on his first off-leash hikes. My sister and I took my two youngest nieces on a walk and we got to teach the youngest how to pee in the woods. Proud moments with the fam. Memorial Day is a day of remembrance for those who have fallen in the service of our country. Both of my grandfathers served in the military and it's them I think of first when I think of those who have served. Men of integrity, of family, of sacrifice and humility, and of strength. My maternal grandfather was a civil engineer who served two tours in Vietnam. My paternal grandfather was an architect who served in WWII and had been in a Russian internment camp following a crash landing after a bombing mission over Japan. To me, what they left behind was a
legacy of family and a well-traveled one at that. A family that loves each other, and loves to explore. To me, there is no way better to honor their memory than to spend time with the family outdoors making new memories and traditions.
My father's dad passed away last May. He was my last remaining grandparent and my biggest supporter for my photography. He had me restore and enlarge a photo of him and my grandmother after she passed away as a memorial. Whenever I'd stop by his house, he'd ask me "How's the pho-tography business going?" in the most optimistic, and encouraging tone. I'd grown up listening to stories of their travels. My favorite book was his National Geographic Atlas. We'd spend hours and hours looking at maps. He'd tell me stories about his travels. During World War II, he was shot down over Russia following a bombing raid on Japan. He spent several months in an internment camp near Petropavlovsk. He had a little worn out notebook that he'd used to write down Russian words as he learned them. He would trace the route he took from Petropavlovsk to Afghanistan, to Iran, to Italy, eventually to home in the States. Following his military
service, he took the job for the LDS Church as an architect and spent many years travelling around the globe as the job required. He had stories about every country it seemed like. When he passed, I got the atlas.
My mother's father passed away when I was nine. I didn't get to know him personally as well. He was a Texan who taught himself to speak without an accent and was quite proud of that. There are several miraculous stories from his tours in Vietnam that lead me to believe he was being watched over. He stayed in the military following Vietnam and their family was stationed in Germany, Italy, France and all across the US. Following his military service, his work took him to Belgium and Saudi Arabia. My grandmother
unsuccessfully attempted to smuggle the family dogs into Saudi Arabia. He travelled across Africa and had several extensions in his passport book.
The topic of how my father proposed came up around the fire one while we were out this weekend. My grandfathers knew each other - they both worked on the 21st floor of the Church Office Building of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS/Mormon). They set up their two single kids, both in their late twenties, and decided to set them up on a blind date with all the parents as chaperones. (Awkward!) Upon my parent's engagement, they had to make two very expensive long-distance calls - one to Germany and the other to Argentina to announce the good news to their parents. The dads had a life-long contest to see who could visit more countries. My mother's parents got the news that I was born while they were living in Saudi Arabia. Both of their homes were filled with treasures brought back from far away places and visiting the grandparents was like visiting an awesome museum - a stone tablet with picture of Nefertiti that I grew up adoring, matryoshka dolls from Russia, large Hawaiian wooden bowls that we used at family gatherings, and Persian lamps.
Photos of theirs travels were an endless source of interest and have fueled my own fascination for exploration and travel. Their lives are an example of how I try to live my own. Their love made me feel secure, welcome, and confident. Their knowledge piqued my interest and curiosity. I'm happy to have had their influence in my life, and to see it in my family. What a great holiday, to remember these remarkable people.