a bluebird and a butterfly

WINGED CREATURES are understandably associated with transformation, freedom and an unencumbered ability to soar. That's something we earthbound humans have long held a jealous fascination with. Imagine being able to quickly dart around in thin air, ride the wind and come back down to earth whenever we wanted. It would certainly give us a different perspective of the world—a bird's-eye view—if you will. From that vantage point, I'm sure we could all see things a bit differently. We could see the awesome wonder of nature in it's entirety instead of a tree or a leaf at a time and we might have more of an appreciation for being a part of it.

MEMORIAL DAY, to me is not just about fallen military war heroes or the beginning of summer. It is also a time to reflect on what being a citizen of the world means, regardless of military affiliation. Although my father was a U.S. army veteran of WWII and came home safe, I knew his life was marked by the atrocities he saw during the war. At that time my mother worked in a manufacturing plant, taking over jobs that were usually dominated by the men who were off at war. Essentially, she was a “Rosie the Riveter,” which has become a strong symbol for feminism. These formative parts of their lives forged an amazing strength and fortitude. They met upon my father's return home from WWII, by my father seeing my mother with a girlfriend who turned her down for going to see a movie that night. My father stepped in and told her he'd go to that movie with her. And the rest is history. If they had lived another year, they would have celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. I miss hearing them tell this story, but can hear the intonation and love in their voices when I remember this.

THESE UNUSUAL jobs for their time bought claim to a proud part of history. They wouldn’t recognize our country as it is now and I’m not sure they would be entirely sold on the ideals (or lack thereof) that we seem to fight wars for these days. They were a part of the Greatest Generation—they were a part of fighting the "good war" in ending Hitler's reign. My mother and father were both “war heroes” in the battle for the ever-elusive American dream. I don't think it's because of them though that we're in the shape we're in as a country. I think our overall values have been maligned since then by corporate greed and a lack of respect for Mother Nature.

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THESE ORNAMENTS are symbols of my parents. The bluebird represents my father because of his sparkly blue eyes and the pink butterfly represents my mother because it was her favorite color. Of course both of these ornaments also represent in them everything winged creatures do, as noted in the first paragraph of this post. I bought four of each, one set for myself and the others for each my three siblings as Christmas gifts in 2007. This was two years after my parents had died. I designed a card (shown at right) to fit in the bottom of the box made for keeping them.

REMEMBRANCE is the best way to bring them close now. But I also remember the simple gift of hope for living “the American dream” that was instilled in all of us. It seems in the world we live in today, that dream is becoming distorted for more and more people as the classes divide disproportionately, leaving the middle class, of which we were a part of struggling to just get by. There's no room for dreams within that scenario. But I'll remember what my parents represented and keep plugging along. That dream was simply goodness and learning to fly.

  

WINGED FLIGHT | (Top): These glittery ornaments were both from the 2007 holiday collection at Z. Gallerie and were Christmas gifts to my siblings representing my parents. Blue was the color of my father's eyes and pink was definitely my mother's signature color. Flight was something they acquainted all of us with, even in spirit.

WINGED VICTORY | (Above): I remember seeing this several years ago when in Washington D.C. and being overwhelmed with its beauty. One of the most beautiful and symbolic memorials to the Greatest Generation, four American eagles hold a suspended laurel wreath in the Baldacchino sculpture that is only one part of the beautiful National WWII Memorial in Washington, DC. The memorial is classically-designed as it should be for the era. It was only opened to the public on April 29, 2004. Photo by Richard Latof. 

©2011 DARRYL MOLAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Collecting and styling by Darryl Moland,
Photo of the WWII memorial by Richard Latof, 
sculpture by Baldacchino.