My father was born May 30, 1946. Back before we all got into that shifting-federal-holidays-around-to-make-three-day-weekends, his birthday always fell on Memorial Day. Usually not a big deal, I think that kids got that day off of school back then as well, so that must have been nice.
Memorial Day, being a holiday of somber reflection, does have its drawbacks as a birthday, however. Especially when your Boy Scout troop is sponsored by the local VFW hall, and you have to spend a good chunk of your birthday in a cemetary. I think he had a new perspective on that period of his life after he came home from Vietnam.
So, Dad, happy birthday. If I may offer a reflection on the past year: For God's sake! Don't do that again! I don't think any of could handle another round.
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