05/23/2026
Memorial Day to The 3 of Us growing up in the hills of East TN meant we were spending today helping our mam-maw get ready for a Sunday dinner on the ground.
You know the kind you see in movies about the south where the linen tablecloths are flapping in the breeze under big shade trees. The kids are running around in the green grass with the white church in the background. The men are standing around shiny cars while the women are loading the tables with all the food they made on Saturday. Yeap, those were real and we were some of the kids running around.
I know a lot of the Saturday memories should be about the cooking, but for me it is about the flowers. Mammaw sent us to pick 'em for the graves. We were given an abundance of pint Mason jars wrapped in aluminum foil. It helped keep the flower water cooler longer, according to mammaw. Then we were charged with filling them with flowers for the graves. The more flowers, she said, the better they would look. Those were my first days of flower arranging. Fields of wildflowers and mammaw's beautiful unmanicured flower beds were our playground for the day.
I remember spending endless hours picking so many day lilies, peonies, sweet peas, roses, honeysuckle, buttercups, fern fronds, daises, and ragweed, all of the beauties of spring to fill those jars.
Then on Sunday after we ate, mammaw took us to the graves of all our family and we placed flower jars as she told us their stories.
After that, and this part for the longest time of my childhood is why I thought this weekend is called Memorial Day, was that she made us take all of the extra jars of flowers to place on the graves of anyone whose family hadn't been there that day.
Can you imagine? A whole weekend spent with family, cooking, eating, honoring, and remembering those who had passed on.
Maybe my childhood memory was a little off, now that I think about it. This weekend isn't just about our food, family, or fun, but about taking time to remember what should never be forgotten.
Others died to give us our fields of flowers, tables of food, places of worship, and freedom to love our families. Our soldiers. And some probably got those jars of our flowers year after year. Now as an adult, I like to think mammaw pointed us to the gravestones with flags, but no flowers. Knowing her, I bet that was the plan for all the extra jars.
Please honor and remember our fallen soldiers this Memorial Day. Be safe. Be blessed. Be Thankful. And take care of someone whose family may not have shown up.
(Below pic is our Applachian mammaw, Ruth Scism Armstrong, as a young lady standing among her beloved plants. A true mountain woman, with all the grace and grit that title bestows.)
