Remembering Names
My brother, Mark, is a U.S. Marine.
He was honorably discharged years ago, but once a Marine, always a Marine.
After he served, he got a job, bought a house and married my fantastic sister-in-law.
But for the luck of the draw, none of this would have happened.
When he was a corporal in 1983, he called to say we wouldn’t hear from him for a while because he was being sent on a sensitive mission.
A week later, 241 Marines were killed in Beirut, Lebanon, by a terrorist bomb.
The names of the dead were printed in long lists in the newspaper every day. New names were added as bodies were recovered.
My brother’s name never was published in those lists – he had been sent to a different part of the world – but I will never forget reading those names in the newspaper, my heart breaking for those families as I worried about my brother.
Now, my son serves in the Air Force.
I’m so proud of him, yet well aware that a pair of uniformed officers might knock on my door at any time to impart the worst news I could ever hear.
I ask my son to train hard, learn as much as he can and humbly be the best pilot he can be because the people who are trying to shoot down his jet are doing the same thing.
His best chance for survival is to fly better than the other guy.
Even though our nation’s military is the best in the world, no individual member is invincible.
The granite Vietnam War Memorial in Washington, D.C., lists 58,318 names of those who died or who are missing in action.
Only names.
Yet each name represents a person who had a family, held dreams for the future close, and helped friends and a community.
Just like my brother and my son.
Just like those who serve in our military today.
Each believed in the principles of our nation – freedom, justice, democracy, and the right to pursue happiness however we want.
Just like my brother and my son.
Just like those who serve in our military today.
These names held our common principles high enough to pause their pursuit of happiness so that I can pursue mine and you can pursue yours.
Just like my brother and my son.
Just like those who serve in our military today.
I didn’t press pause on my pursuit of happiness.
I pursued it on a long and winding gravel road, graded by people who protected my freedom, system of justice, right to be represented by my elected government, and right to seek my own version of happiness.
My pursuit of happiness gets bogged down in the mud once in a while; their pursuit of happiness ended.
No second chances.
No revisions.
No long career, owned home or spouse with whom to grow old.
Memorial Day is our opportunity to prove they didn’t die in vain.
When we pause at 3 p.m. to honor them, we remember all that they gave each of us.
We remember all that they gave up and all of the days and nights that their families live without them.
Remembering those people and their principles is the very least we can do to thank them.
And, just as every moment of appreciation increases a person’s happiness, when we remember them, they give us yet another gift.
So on this Memorial Day and every day when we enjoy freedom, justice, democracy and the right to pursue happiness, pause for a moment to think of the people who gave their lives for ours.
They were so much more than just names.
Happy Memorial Day.