Memorial Day used to be held on May 30th, that was until they changed all the holidays to a Monday for a three day weekend.  Memorial Day, May 30, 1915 was when my grandparents were married, so I still think of that day as special. 

I have a clipping from the newspaper when they had their 50th Anniversary.  It says they were married in Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Church, the ceremony performed by Rev. B. Mateye.
The article goes on to tell about their 50th celebration in the Knights of Columbus.  "Some 90 friends and relatives attended the fete.  Congratulations were sent by President and Mrs. Johnson and Sen. Robert Kennedy."  I remember when Poppy got the mail and saw a letter with the President's seal on it.  He yelled to Grandma, "Bad news, I think I just got drafted."  The article went on to say that on Jan. 10 they were among the 50-year wedded couples presented awards by Francis Cardinal Spellman.  Attending with them were their children and two granddaughters.  The two grandchildren were Barbara and me.

It was cold, the dead of winter and St. Patrick's was packed with couples and families of the couples married for 50 years.  Afterwards we went to a church, St. Vincent de Paul (I thought that was where they were married, but it must have been their local church.)  I was pregnant, and after two girls, asked for my wish that Grandma said you do when you go into a new church that you have never been in before.  So I wished that I would have a boy and if I did I would call him Vincent Paul.  When Paul was born, I weakened and reversed the names.  Anyway, after that we went to Poppy's sister's house for lunch.  And it was delicious.  I especially remember the rice, a golden yellow, with such flavor.  How do you make it so yellow? I asked and Mrs. Peepa (that was kind of her name) answered simply "Goose Fat".  Barbara and I looked at each other, our eyes large. 

Anyway, I remember the Anniversary Party too- I was large with Vincent Paul not-to-be and the place was packed.  I happened to sit near the Resicks, family friends of my mother's family for years.  Their son had been killed in World War II, a handsome young man, I think his name was Billy.  Anyway his brother told us this story that has stayed with me for all these years.  They had sent home the body of his brother, in a locked coffin, and it was set up in the living room, as it was done in those days.  Anyway, he said he heard a noise that night, after everyone was asleep and he came downstairs and found his mother with tools, trying to open the coffin.  She just wanted to see him, make sure it was her son.  A touching story, and appropriate for Memorial Day, whenever you celebrate it.  Happy Anniversary Grandma and Poppy.