It’s Memorial Day weekend—the unofficial beginning of summer—and a day of remembrance. Originally the day was set aside to remember veterans and their sacrifices during war. It has become more of a time to remember people who have passed on. Both are commendable.

My mother-in-law used to decorate graves all across the region and said if she didn’t who would? I seldom decorate graves anymore. I remember the people who have left us and that seems enough.

But Memorial Day for the military involves my father, James Leo Osburn. He was born in northeast Arkansas and grew up on a farm during the Great Depression. He went into the military and became an aircraft mechanic. He was ultimately sent to Guadalcanal to work on battle-scared aircraft on Henderson Field after the island was taken over from the Japanese. He spent several years there and then came home to marry the girl he left behind.

They had three children and he used his skills to support a family gathering FAA certifications along the way. At home, he always had a project and an organized garage. I once told my grade-school class there was an airplane in our garage. They didn’t believe me so I brought them home with me. A small two-seater fiberglass body aircraft sat diagonally in the detached two-car garage; the wings slid along the side walls. It had been wrecked and he bought it and put it back together. It eventually flew again with him as the pilot, and then he sold it and moved on to the next project.

He spent his career in aviation, working up to management and spent some time at NASA working for a contractor doing the same thing during the Skylab project. It was the highlight of his career, but Houston was not for Mom, so they moved home.

He and Mom raised three daughters and often one of them helped in the garage when he needed someone to hand him tools or “push this when I tell you.”

It’s Memorial Day weekend and on top of cooking a burger on the grill, I’ll remember the man closest to me who went to war and came home with an education. He raised a family and worked hard using the skills he learned from the military.

Thank you, Dad, I love you. But that is Another Story another Time.

What are you reading/writing/creating this week?