by Derek Farwell
Columnist

I went to breakfast this morning with my girlfriend in the new town we live in with the expectations of having a nice quiet Memorial Day breakfast. As we were sitting there waiting for our food, the park across the street and the streets themselves began to fill up with people. The restaurant we were eating at was across the street from where the Memorial Day parade ended and the program they had planned was to be held. I have been a little bit hesitant about going to Memorial Day events in recent years because the memories of my lost friends are still relatively fresh and events like that seem to do more to make me feel bad than good, which I understand is selfish because Memorial Day is about more than me, and how I feel, but that has been my policy as of the last few years.

When I was younger, Memorial Day was great; it was a day off from school or work marking the beginning of summer. Sure, we’d usually have someone come in and give a powerful and touching speech about how we should be thankful to veterans, and we should be remembering those that came before us that fought and died for our freedom and our way of life. For those that fought and died to preserve America and end the horrible practice of buying and selling human beings. The last living World War 1 veteran died a few years ago, and unfortunately World War 2 veterans are becoming a smaller and smaller bunch. Vietnam veterans are facing their own set of problems because of the use of Agent Orange that is unfortunately making them a smaller group long before they should be. I had ancestors fight and die in the Civil War, and I’m very proud of that, but the problem today, and why I didn’t fully appreciate the gravity of Memorial Day as a younger man is because it didn’t directly affect me then. I’d of course never met my ancestors that fought in the Civil War. Honoring the veterans to me meant honoring the old guys who fought in wars before I was even an idea much less actually born, and it’s kind of hard to do that.

Needless to say, my thoughts about Memorial Day have changed and I’m hopeful that given the fact that this country has been in multiple wars in the last 10+ years, that the meaning has changed for many others as well. There can’t be many people left in the country who don’t know someone who’s been deployed or had a relative deployed to a war zone. There are fewer people who have had to deal with the death of a loved one in the military, but those people are out there too. Obviously I’ve had many of my friends deploy, and sadly, I’ve had a lot of friends become the focus of what Memorial Day is meant for, but something occurred to me today. Memorial Day shouldn’t only be a day of remembering the soldiers who fought and died, because if it were only that, then every day of my life would be Memorial Day. Each and every soldier who has died in every American war has had parents; some have kids, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters and friends. Those people need to be remembered as well. The dead should be remembered and revered, but the ones who survive and have that hole in their lives deserve to be honored as well.

I mentioned before that I usually try to avoid gatherings like this because going there elicits certain responses that I don’t care to experience at this particular point in my life. Personally for me, it’s the playing of Taps that really bothers me. There are very few things in this world that I feel strongly enough about to use the word hate, but I hate that damn tune, and every time I hear it I vividly relive the moments I saw some of my friends die, and seeing them be carried out by helicopter in a body bag it reopens wounds that won’t seem to heal. But I believe it’s important that we all go out of our way, even if it is uncomfortable, to remember those heroes who have made possible all of the things that we’re fortunate enough to enjoy today.

I know that Memorial Day has taken on a new meaning to me in recent years, and I know a number of personal heroes that I think about not only on the last Monday in May, but every day of my life. I only hope that tomorrow, and later this week, and next month that people don’t stop being thankful for the men and women who died for us because no matter who they were, or when and where they died, they’ve given their lives for you and I. We’ve all incurred a debt to them that can never be repaid. The least we can do is remember them, and be as good as we can to make the place they died for a place that they would be proud of.

drfarwell@hotmail.com