Memorial Day was always a big deal for my family. We'd always make a day of visiting the nearby graveyards and placing new flowers on the headstones of close family members. I can remember when Grandma and Grandpa even went with us and it was an adventure when we were little to find the names of family members they were looking for. Of course I'm sure they always knew right where the graves were, but we sure thought we were being a big help as we'd read name after name until we found the right ones.
Later trips always ended at the river. We'd save the graves located near the river for last and when through we'd all head to the water to skip rocks, fish, etc. In Missouri Memorial Day was still usually too cold for swimming in the ice cold spring-fed rivers. I don't remember which river it was, but we always called this particular swimming hole "Martin's Crossing" or "Martin's Ford" and many of the names on the graves at that cemetery are Martin.
One particular Memorial Day when Heather was about 3, several of us loaded up to make the trek to the cemeteries and then to the river. The men fished, the kids fished, and the women sat around enjoying the warm afternoon. This day always brings a chuckle when Marty and I remember it. It was the day Heather caught her first fish, with Daddy's help. She had a brand new Snoopy fishing pole, complete with a Mickey Mouse bobber.
She waited ever so patiently while Daddy prepared her pole, attached the bobber and cast it out into the water.
Then the screaming began! "No! Daddy! No!!! You're DROWNING MICKEY! BRING HIM BACK! BRING HIM BACK!" She was so upset Daddy quickly reeled Mickey back in and rescued him from the fishing line and replaced him with a round red bobber. Mickey never went fishing again and I've kept him all these years as a reminder of that day.
Heather and her first fish, with her Daddy and her cousin Brandon.