My Memorial Day weekend was different this year, then previous years. Usually, it is spent with family enjoying the day together-- but this year my family was all off in different directions. I spent the weekend here at Drexel, I was one of the few souls who didn't go down to the shore for the weekend; I did make it to Atlantic City yesterday, to celebrate the unofficial start of summer, not to remember the tens of thousands of people who have fought in the various wars. As I was lying on my beach blanket, I overheard a man who was laying on the lounge chair close to me was yelling to someone on the phone, why he was not doing any work yesterday... he said "it's a holiday here in America." When he said this, it was the only time that the meaning of Memorial Day ever crossed my mind.
My family members were off doing their own things as well, I secretly think it has something to do with the fact that I wasn't home for the weekend, but it's not like they are going to admit that to me. I see Memorial Day weekend as a time to celebrate family, we've never been big into going to parades and such... honestly, before this post I have never really thought much about Memorial Day as being a day to remember those that have fought and sacrificed their lives for our country.
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