Tag Archives: respect

I love my town.

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In the continuing series Small Town Life Be Different…. here are the latest missives from mine.

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This was so sweet. Our local UPS man… who distributes doggie treats on his route… is in the hospital with pneumonia, so all his four legged customers posted pictures.

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Because traffic alerts in the country are less about speeding and more about manure.

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Every year the women of the Historical Society sew a quilt with local scenes to be auctioned off.

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The Town Office bought the first one where it still hangs proudly.

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Yes, I showed this to the husband. And no, he hasn’t removed his absolutely no chickens ban.

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Yikes. Critters that crawl under your house and die are the worst. But I can’t say I’ve ever known one to stink of garlic. And speaking of stinking…

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Word to the wise… if you think it’s your year? It most definitely is. 🤢

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As he predicted, this man’s post got a whole lotta hate. He’s new to the area… and I’m guessing he isn’t going to be very popular. Buying a house in a rural part of Maine means generations of the previous owners might still be inhabiting your back 40. A man up the road from us has a cemetery from the late 1700’s on his land. He doesn’t know the family or their descendants, but lovingly cares for the plot all the same. It’s called respect.

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Sh*t is starting to get real.

 

The virus.

The pandemic.

The hysteria.

I know, you’ve heard it all before… and entirely too often for your emotional well being.

But now?

It’s hitting home for your favorite chicken and rock loving friend.

 

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Our beloved local pub… that we support on a weekly basis… has shut it’s doors.

So please, for me –

And all those margaritas that anxiously await my return?

 

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Yorktown National Cemetery

 

The next stop on the driving tour was a solemn one.

 

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Where I found it a sad statement on today’s society that this sign even needed to be posted.

 

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Silence and respect is the very least we can give them.

 

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I’ve always found cemeteries to be beautiful places.

 

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And never fail to become emotional…. constantly close to tears.

 

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It doesn’t matter that none of my people were here…..

 

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They’re someone’s people.

 

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Someone’s son, husband or father.

 

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And they made the ultimate sacrifice for a country we all share.

 

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Cemeteries are a perfect place for personal reflection.

 

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And I made sure to give my veteran husband some time alone with memories of his war… and those he lost.

 

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I have to admit I was ignorant of the tradition of coin laying. You don’t see this up our way, but almost every grave had coins on it in Yorktown.

 

According to legend, the coin left belongs on the gravestones of U.S. military veterans. Visitors who wish to show their respect leave coins on the headstones in different amounts. It shows their loved ones of the soldiers family that someone has come to visit the grave.

Leaving a penny means you visited and want to thank the veteran for their service. A nickel means you trained at boot camp with the deceased, while a dime suggests you served with him or her. Finally, a quarter signifies you were with the soldier when they passed away.

The origin of the tradition, like the meaning behind it, is still up for debate. But many people believe it started in America during the Vietnam War. America was having a crisis of conscience. Any discussion of the war usually devolved into a more significant discussion about politics. Leaving a coin was a way to say you appreciate the soldier’s service while avoiding an inevitable uncomfortable conversation.

 

I really wish I’d known this before our visit.

I would have broken my piggy bank and put a penny on each and every one.