To Actively Remember: Honoring The Ones Memorial Day is For

My parents came to visit us when we lived in Paris, France. We took a day-trip to Normandy. It was Memorial Day Weekend, 2005.

We’d been on this side of the Atlantic for about three months, but it felt good to be on official U.S. soil. The American National Cemetery at Omaha Beach is officially the United States of America.

It is dedicated to the soldiers who gave everything they had in order to protect everything they knew.

They gave it all to defend the freedom of those back home. The liberty of those of us who were not yet born.

We walked around, peered over the edge and imagined the terror that had happened on the sand in front of us. The bunker in the hill made my heart beat hard, as I imagined the fighting, the death, the spilling blood, the loud screams.

My dad fought in Vietnam. His dad fought in the war that made the place where we stood U.S. property. He wasn’t there in the fighting. My grandfather was stationed far away from the D-Day horrors in the land of Burma, where he secured more of our freedom.

Still, all I could think about was the courage it took for each one of my patriarchs — my dad, my grandpa, every soldier approaching those Normandy beaches — to give what they gave. To shun their fear for the sake of my freedom. To face untold horrors on my behalf. So I might not have to.

We walked among the white crosses. They beautifully lined the entire plot of land. My then three-year-old skipped in her little Gymboree red white and blue dress as her ten-month-old sister watched and giggled.

I felt bad about that. Because it’s such a solemn place. So serious. So much blood in the soil on which our feet now stood. Skipped. Ran.

Then I looked at my dad, who’d known the realities of war. I remembered that was why he did it. So we could stand there that day. So they could skip and run and dance. Freely.

He survived the war in that Asian land a true hero. Injured by shrapnel from an exploding bomb.

My dad’s courage inspires me.

That I could stand there on U.S. soil won with lives whose memories marked the land, stand there with my hero whose bravery secured my footing — I will never forget that moment.

And today I will do more than not forget those who gave their lives so I could live as I do today. I will actively remember.

*I’m pretty sure my dad’s going to be reading this today. (Hi Dad!) He knew so many who gave their lives for our freedom. Would you be willing to leave a quick note in the comments honoring their memories and the memories of all who have?