So since every day really should be Memorial Day, I feel absolved of all guilt that this is almost three days late. To commemorate this Memorial Day, we went and visited my Grandpa Covey. I’m named after him, actually. William Lindsey Covey was pretty awsome. It was very cool to tell Garyn that his grandpa was a builder too. And that he loved purple flowers too. And that he loved ice cream too. All these things that Garyn learned he has in common with a man he won’t meet again for a long time.
Garyn is just starting to be able to kind of get what we are talking about when we talk about remembering those who fought for our freedoms. Naomi mostly just had a great time running around messing with the pinwheels that were placed on the graves. Sigh.
Oh and as a side note. The saturday before Memorial Day we were driving through Death Valley when we hit a slippery wet turn and fish-tailed a few times narrowly missing an on-coming park ranger in his massive truck before spinning off onto the sholder becoming high centered on a rock and not rolling (luckily) and since we had almost hit the ranger he stopped and made sure we were ok and called us a tow truck to get us off the rock and then the CA highway patrol came and took statements (really nice guy, talked all about his kids whom they homeschool) and then 3 hours later we were on our way home, totally missing the wedding, with a ripped off gravel shield, a torn up intake air resonator (?), and a very scratched up bumper. Whew.
Good times were had by all. Well, most. Garyn and Layna rode with me in the ranger’s truck, and Naomi insisted upon riding with Daddy in the cop car. The van didn’t get a choice.