Iris

This week our first iris blooms appeared in the back yard. Our spring has been so wet and cold this year that the growing season is delayed. I'm not certain if or when we will see all the irises bloom.

When I was a boy, on Memorial Day my Mom would cut iris blooms of all colors from her garden, wrap the stems in wet paper towels covered in plastic bags or foil, and drive to the cemetery in her hometown to decorate the family graves. For the longest time I called this holiday "decoration day" rather than Memorial Day. I looked forward to decorating the graves and hearing stories about the names chiseled into the stones.

We carefully placed the fresh cut flowers at the headstones in what we called Mason jars, canning bottles we had emptied during the winter. I can still see the bright colors of the flowers and American flags brightening the graves in the otherwise drab cemetery. This is where I learned about my Mom's parents losing their first baby to pneumonia. This is where I realized how many soldiers had been cut down in the prime of life fighting in far away wars.

When we moved to Iowa, I no longer had family graves to decorate. So one year I cut my iris blooms to decorate the various war memorials near the capital building and grounds in Des Moines. This turned into a tradition for my own family, honoring the sacrifice of the war wounded and dead who fought to preserve and protect our country and freedoms.

I particularly enjoy the World War II memorial here. The history of the progress of the war for both the European and Pacific theaters is literally cast in the concrete walk, year by year. I tried to explain to my children the magnitude of the war and the heroism of those who fought in our defense. I had them place blooms at the memorials as a small gesture of thanks for a debt we can never adequately repay.

Even though the children are gone, each year I continue our Memorial Day tradition. I am humbled and thankful every year when I think about what others have done and have given for me. I will never forget and I will never cease being grateful. I hope my children enjoyed leaving flowers at the war memorials. More importantly, I hope they remember those who have made it possible for them to enjoy the freedoms and prosperity of this land.

A little history about the iris flower ...

The goddess Iris of Greek mythology was a beloved messenger of the gods, especially of Hera, who became Juno to the ancient Romans. She had golden wings and was the goddess of the rainbow. Iris traveled on the rainbow's arc, carrying commands and messages from the ancient gods to mankind. Iris married the west wind, Zephyrus. To this day, the Greeks plant irises on women's graves, believing that the goddess Iris will guide the souls of women to their last resting places. (from herbs2000.com, "History of Irises)