You know what frosts my flakes?
Memorial Day.
Not the holiday itself, but what we have turned it into.
Memorial Day used to mean something in this country. It was a day to honor the men and women who died serving America. People visited cemeteries and placed on graves while families paused to remember true sacrifice.
Now? Memorial Day is apparently National Mattress Blowout Weekend.
Every commercial on television screams about hot tubs, pickup trucks, hamburgers and patio furniture. Nothing says “honor the fallen” quite like zero percent financing on a riding lawn mower.
Somewhere along the way, Memorial Day became the official kickoff to summer. People race to the lake, fire up the grill and post selfies holding giant margaritas while wearing tank tops with little American flags on them.
Half the country does not even know the difference between Memorial Day and Veterans Day anymore.
Veterans Day honors the people who served. Memorial Day honors the people who never came home and that matters.
This country is filled with people who gave up birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, grandchildren and entire futures so the rest of us could complain about how slow the Wi-Fi is at the campground.
And yet every year, millions of Americans spend Memorial Day elbowing each other at outlet malls over half-price flip flops.
What really boils my biscuit is when people casually say, “Happy Memorial Day.”
Happy? It is not Arbor Day or National Pancake Day. This is a day of remembrance.
Now, I am not saying you cannot enjoy the holiday weekend. Absolutely cook burgers, spend time with family, take the RV out and enjoy the freedom they protected.
But maybe, just maybe, take five minutes to remember why you have that freedom in the first place.
Maybe teach your grandkids what Memorial Day actually means by visiting a veterans cemetery. Or, maybe stop scrolling through social media long enough to think about the people who never got the chance to grow old and grumpy like me.
Because freedom is not free. It was paid for by people who never made it home.
I’m Grandpa Grumpy and if we can remember celebrity birthdays, sports statistics and what happened on reality television, we ought to be able to remember the people who died defending this country.