The first memory in my mind is Ma that’s what we called her one and all

Get ready Sis, its Memorial Day we got to go, all Gold Star mothers have to stand tall

Where we going, what for Ma, what’s that little gold thing in your hand

To church, a special service, and this little gold thing will be yours someday and then you’ll understand

I heard them sing, pray, and make speeches, I saw them laugh and cry, I even saw a military band

We grew older and Ma could not go, she’d say it’s Memorial Day Sis, and don’t you forget it

I was a teenager and didn’t give it a thought, I’ll have to admit

Years passed by, one day Ma got out a box and said, sit down Sis it’s time for a talk

Then one by one she took out his medals and explained, she told me about a son who had given it all

She talked of a grandson who was now walking the walk

There by her side Memorial Day came alive

There I learned that memories must survive