“Good is the enemy of best.”

A common idiom

While recently attending my grandfather’s grave, I thought about that idiom. I also remembered being in the same place and doing many of the same things some sixty-five years ago with my father. Little did we know it would be one of the last times we’d work together and Dad would be laying next to his father a short month later.

I’m not sure how helpful my seven-year-old self actually was but I felt important and I sensed the work was important. It began with a trip to the cemetery to pick up the metal flag holder. The old flags were removed, a wire brush removed the rust, and fresh black paint was applied. When the holder was reinstalled exactly in the center above the stone, American and British Flags were added. Of course, there was grass to trim and geraniums to plant. It seemed to end with a crisp salute from the foot of the grave with Dad in full dress uniform.

While I remember the steps, what I remember most is how important it was that things be done correctly. I accepted that but I’m not sure I really understood it at the time. I also knew my Dad would be “sergeant at arms” during Memorial Day ceremonies and that meant more work–rifles to clean and polish and lots of practice with his squad. Some years later squad members told me he expected perfection, from keeping in step and moving in perfect unison to hearing “one shot.” They were not complaining; they spoke with pride and a smile.

In retrospect, I appreciate the fact that I was made to feel important and I think I better understand why what we did was important. “Respect” is an important word. We demonstrate our respect by doing our best. I occasionally accept some teasing over the fact I’m not a fan of “good enough” when it comes to certain things. I’ve mellowed some but I still cringe inside if I hear more than one shot at Memorial Day Celebrations.

Distance means I can no longer really maintain my father’s and grandfather’s resting place–other than a rushed annual visit. This year was special. For years, there has been no British flag and things have looked a little lopsided. But this year I found a source for British flags!

I was further motivated by a photo request from the Netherlands where grandfather was born. It seems he will be the subject of an article by Nykle Dijkstra regarding a very few Friesians who served under another country’s flag during World War I. (He’s also included in a chapter of the book: “Far From The Front? Friesland and the Friesians in the First World War.” )

My Dad and I treated him a bit like a celebrity sixty-five years ago. Now others are as well. While by most standards he was not a war hero, perhaps he is finally getting what he deserved –one hundred years later.

With my brother’s help, we repeated many of those steps, including a gentle cleaning of the stone, weeding and trimming and some raking with our hands. We agreed we felt an odd desire to salute when we finished.

And I am left to consider the lessons I learned sixty five years ago in Pine Hill Cemetery, Chester Massachusetts. Good –or at least good enough–is, in fact, the enemy of best. Some things and some people deserve our respect and our best. While offering our respect and our best, we can feel important. And we can learn to respect ourselves.