By Cami Beiter ~~~~~ As I sit thinking about Memorial Day and its meaning, I continue to think about it’s perception on the younger generation. If we don’t emphasize and stress the importance of the sacrifices our service members have made (or making), how will they come to appreciate the luxury of their freedom?
Reminding them to thank a soldier or thinking about grandpa and his war time duty, isn’t enough. To them, it’s like telling them to clean their room. If they aren’t truly vested with a clear understanding, they won’t appreciate the message.
What they need to understand is sacrifice, something we typically think nothing of on any given day. But talk to a veteran or a family affected by war and you will find a story.
During WWII, my grandfather was a U.S. Army Paratrooper serving in Europe and member of the Office Of Strategic Services (O.S.S). For nearly four years, he had virtually no written communication with my grandmother. She would frequently receive a typed letter from a war office in Washington D.C., saying he was alive but whereabouts classified.
My father missed my brother’s first birthday while on his first tour in Vietnam. Read more... Teaching Kids That Sacrifice Is The Real Meaning of Memorial Day
By Cami Beiter ~~~~~ As I sit thinking about Memorial Day and its meaning, I continue to think about it’s perception on the younger generation. If we don’t emphasize and stress the importance of the sacrifices our service members have made (or making), how will they come to appreciate the luxury of their freedom?
Reminding them to thank a soldier or thinking about grandpa and his war time duty, isn’t enough. To them, it’s like telling them to clean their room. If they aren’t truly vested with a clear understanding, they won’t appreciate the message.
What they need to understand is sacrifice, something we typically think nothing of on any given day. But talk to a veteran or a family affected by war and you will find a story.
During WWII, my grandfather was a U.S. Army Paratrooper serving in Europe and member of the Office Of Strategic Services (O.S.S). For nearly four years, he had virtually no written communication with my grandmother. She would frequently receive a typed letter from a war office in Washington D.C., saying he was alive but whereabouts classified.
My father missed my brother’s first birthday while on his first tour in Vietnam. Read more... 
By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~~~~~~ It's always surprising to me that Memorial Day is usually a big party instead of a solemn day of remembrance for the American soldiers who have died defending our freedom and freedoms of other peoples. I suppose we could say those men and women died for our right to slap a steak on the grill and we should show our appreciation by doing so. By all means, I say we should celebrate their lives with patriotism and the American way.
But since visiting other countries and learning about their customs it occurs to me that I, myself, should make more of an effort to really honor the day in the way it was intended.
"Originally known as Decoration Day, it originated in the years following the Civil War and became an official federal holiday in 1971," informs the History Channel. We closed shops and schools and met to decorate the graves of fallen soldiers. We didn't go out to buy mattresses at rock-bottom-prices.
So perhaps to assuage my own guilt over not taking the day seriously enough in the past, I am passing these bits of info along. And myself looking to teach my kids a bit of meaning behind the day off of school.
Here's a few things you 
By Tim Jensen
My mom is 80 and a cancer survivor, just like me. She is able to laugh at herself, which makes this story even funnier. When I was virtually immobile at my home after surgery shortly after my diagnosis, she and my dad would call to see if I needed anything. One day I said I was short on groceries, and she asked if there was anything else. I said, "Yeah, Dad said I could borrow some of his DVDs because I'm totally bored." Later, they dropped off a bag of items, then she called me that night to check on me. I told her, "Thanks for the groceries, but you didn't bring the DVDs." She replied, "Yes I did, they're on your kitchen counter." Looking there, I noticed a large pile of my father's underwear and began laughing hysterically. Apparently, at the time she didn't know what DVDs were, so she assumed I meant BVDs. Think about it - even if BVDs is what I needed, would you really bring someone's used pairs? Only a Mom can get away with that! Love you Mom! 
By Cami Beiter ~
James Lincoln Wood was known by many names.
“Jimmy” by close acquaintances. “Jim” by fellow ranchers, large equipment retailers and feed store owners. “Mr. Wood” by the many hispanic migrant workers he housed and employed. “Jimmy Lincoln”...only to the ladies or childhood friends did he hesitantly permit such reference.
As a young girl, I heard people refer to him by all his various monikers. I thought I detected a hint of hatred, a loathing...even jealousy when his name was said but also a level of respect and admiration, mixed with a healthy serving of fear. Jim Wood was a successful rancher, owning thousands of acres in the fertile Salinas Valley.
For many years, my mother dated Jim. He almost became my stepfather. I’m glad he didn’t, for my life would have been very different. It would have taken me away from the ocean, my friends, my school.
Still, for years many of my adolescent weekends were spent on his ranch...riding horses, working, complaining. In order to make the transition (and reality) of the weekly sacrifice more bearable, my mother would often treat me to McDonald’s before the long and winding drive