Every year, as Memorial Day approaches, I find myself thinking about what this day truly means.
It’s easy to get caught up in the long weekend, barbecues, parades, and the unofficial beginning of summer. But for many families—mine included—Memorial Day carries a much deeper meaning.
I often hear people say, “Thank you for your service,” to veterans on Memorial Day. The sentiment comes from a good place, but Memorial Day is specifically a day to remember the men and women who died while serving our country.
Veterans Day honors those who have served.
Memorial Day asks us to remember those who never came home.
A Photograph and the Questions It Left Behind
One of the photographs I treasure shows my father, Conrad Erniel Johnson Sr., standing with fellow servicemen in San Francisco, California. I didn’t know the photograph existed until after my father passed away. That means I never had the opportunity to ask him who the other young men were. I don’t know their names. I don’t know where life took them. I don’t know which of them made it home, raised families, grew old, or had someone discover an old photograph of them many years later. And perhaps that’s one reason this picture means so much to me on Memorial Day. Behind every uniform was a person. Behind every person was a story. And some of those stories ended far too soon.
Remembering How Memorial Day Began
Memorial Day grew out of the years following the Civil War, when communities across the country began decorating the graves of fallen soldiers and holding ceremonies in their memory.
In 1868, General John A. Logan of the Grand Army of the Republic called for May 30 to be observed as Decoration Day, when flowers would be placed on the graves of those who died in the war.
Different communities had already begun holding their own remembrance ceremonies, and several places have been associated with the early history of what eventually became Memorial Day.
Over time, the observance expanded to honor American military personnel who died in all wars. Today, Memorial Day is observed on the last Monday in May.
My Father’s Story
He was only 19 years old. Part of his work involved identifying the dead, placing identification tags on bodies, and typing letters that would be sent to families.
Remember them.
I can’t imagine what that responsibility must have done to a 19-year-old. The traditions may have changed over the years, but the purpose remains remarkably simple: How many names did he remember?
How many faces stayed with him? How many stories did he carry quietly for the rest of his life?
There are questions I wish I had thought to ask while I still had the chance.
A Family of Service
My father served in the Army Air Forces with a unit from Hamilton Field, California, from July 1945 through December 1946.For years, I thought I understood his military service. It wasn’t until much later, while I was helping care for him, that I learned more about what he had experienced.
Two of my sons also served in the Army. Watching your children enter the military gives words like service and sacrifice an entirely different meaning. There is pride, certainly. But there’s also worry.
You watch them leave as your sons and return having experienced a world you haven’t shared with them. Military service can demand things physically and emotionally that the rest of us may never fully understand. As their mother, I learned that service doesn’t affect only the person wearing the uniform.
Families serve in their own way, too.
More Than a Three-Day Weekend
That’s why Memorial Day feels different to me. It isn’t that we shouldn’t enjoy the weekend. Have the barbecue. Spend time with family. Go to the parade. Enjoy the freedom to live your life. But somewhere in the middle of all of that, remember why the day exists. Remember that freedom has carried an extraordinary human cost. Remember the young men and women whose photographs are still sitting in family albums. Remember the parents, spouses, children, siblings, and friends who never got the homecoming they prayed for. And remember that behind every name carved into a memorial was an entire life.
Take a Moment
So when the flags are flying this Memorial Day, take a moment.
You don’t need a speech.
You don’t need to understand every war or agree with every decision that sent American service members into one.
Just remember them.
The names.
The faces.
The families.
The lives that might have been.
Memorial Day isn’t about barbecues.
It’s about sacrifice.
