In Memoriam

As the rain gently falls throughout the Ozark landscape, my mind wonders to the day rapidly approaching, which modern society considers the departure of spring and the welcoming of the summer vacation season.

Stephens

With the bright eyes, joyous giggles and impatient pleadings to detour to the local swimming hole from children non-relenting, I can sparsely remove the memories of my youth, and these times, from my mind.

As a young child, I recall a moment when my beloved father taught me about the importance of this time of year.

Not unlike many young boys in America, I had a moment where I was unsure and struggling to find my own place in this world.

Although I do not recall the exact reasoning behind my momentary lack of concern or patriotism, I remember describing to my father my youthful, yet surely expert conclusion relating to military service. The firestorm which ensued is a testament to my momentary lack of proper solace for the men and women who served.

My father, a humble man, promptly described in a gentle, yet imposing manner that my world view at the time was severely flawed and in his words “it will change.”

Now, understanding the times we were living in the late ’70s and early ’80s my father’s insistence in a change of attitude was not foreign and definitely not an optional request, the mode of his chosen lesson was empathetic, persuasive, an left lifelong results.

My father began describing that he proudly served in the U.S. Army during the Vietnam era and my grandfather served with honor as a U.S. Marine during the Second World War. He explained the debt we owe our country’s men and women who choose to serve is an obligation, which can never truly be paid.

The chosen few, who selflessly sacrifice their freedom, will and time to ensure the safety and freedoms we, as Americans, hold true are to be revered and held in the highest regard according to my father.

With a slight tear in the man’s eye, he then went on to illustrate how, because of the actions of a few common individuals, selflessly disregarding their own safety and in many cases their own lives, we slept soundly and bore the results of freedom.

My father demanded a love for our country and a reverence and appreciation for any man or woman bearing the military uniform.

As we enter into the Memorial Day holiday weekend, let us not forget the service and sacrifice made by so many.

This sacrifice, in the simplest form, regardless of if it was the colonial fighting at Bunker Hill in 1775 for a nation not yet born, the soldier battling his own at Gettysburg or the sailor gallantly striving for survival in Pearl Harbor, must be forefront in our hearts and of great symbolic meaning to each American.

It matters not if the servant was the airman clearing a path over the sands of the Middle East or the Marine entrenched in the jungles of Korea.

What matters vehemently is the actions of these men and women have become ultimate calling cards of our nation’s heroes and the basis by which we enjoy the freedoms today.

As I think back on the lessons of my youth, I am challenged to not only keep the true meaning of Memorial Day, the sacrifice shown, the lives laid down for mine and future generations in relative reverence, but to never forget their impact.

In our modern society less and less emphasis is given to where we have been and what we have learned. We must do better to avoid future failures and our eventual reliving of the same mistakes of the past.

As we celebrate this holiday season and the ringing in of summer, we must remain mindful of the men and women before us who have served and died for this great country. We would be benefited by daily remembering rather than merely recognizing their sacrifice once a year.

For a true memorial brings with it a constant thought of appreciation and reverence.

In the words of Jocko Willink, an American author and former Navy SEAL, (2017) “we must make every day Memorial day” in our hearts and minds.