For the third year in a row, we said prayers for the dead and enjoyed a picnic lunch at a nearby cemetery. I must remind myself next year by putting a note on our calendar in mid-May to call the cemetery and ask details, as apparently they have a program they put on in the morning. Instead, I remember the day before or morning of Memorial Day, pack a picnic lunch, and show up.
Just like a photo floating around social media right now, I witnessed there a young woman in her 20s, eating alone, who had set up her picnic blanket and lunch right atop one of the graves, which she had decorated even more than the staff had decorated all of them. I could only presume this was her husband or other loved one and it was a poignant reminder of loved ones left behind.
After the picnic, the play date continued at our home for a few hours, which was lovely. We had anticipated weekend guests, who had to cancel visiting, but in the meantime I had planned a dinner requiring actual cooking for Memorial Day. I do very little cooking during my third trimester, but managed to make pulled pork sandwiches, black bean and vegetable soup, macaroni and cheese, and sweet potato casserole--all homemade. And then I collapsed in a heap, so to speak, and left Chris with all the clean-up and most of bedtime routine! Thus why dinners right now are more typically things like Tuesday's plan: French toast pizza (sliced bread toasted, canned pizza sauce spread on top, mozzarella sprinkled, then toasted again). Real life snapshot!