Why Memorial Day Means More Than Just a Picnic Now

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When my younger brother Jake first mentioned his desire to join the military, I was in denial. I thought it was just a phase related to his childhood fascination with all things military, rather than a serious career choice. I knew our family would panic just as much as I did, so I tried not to think about it too much.

Why would we panic? Three reasons come to mind:

1. Danger. I can’t speak for my siblings, but I’m definitely not the brave type. When faced with danger, my instinct is to grab my loved ones and run away (and trust me, I’m not a fast runner).
2. Perception. The way Americans are viewed in various parts of the world makes me nervous, and I wouldn’t want my brother to face backlash for a government he didn’t create.
3. Control. Not in the way you might think. The military has its own agenda, and it won’t necessarily prioritize my brother’s well-being. I get it, they must operate this way, but the thought of someone else dictating his life—from his wake-up calls to his assignments—makes me uneasy. I’ve always been the type to resist authority, and I couldn’t grasp why Jake would willingly choose that path.

Unlike my initial thoughts, Jake was serious. Last year, he enlisted and went off for boot camp, later training to be a medic. He just graduated, and we were all beyond relieved to learn that his first station would be nearby, allowing us to visit him without the looming fears of distant, dangerous deployments.

Now, as Memorial Day approaches, I’m beginning to see it through a different lens.

I’ve always enjoyed the local parade—our small town makes it easy to stroll over just before it starts and still snag a shady spot. We bring snacks, catch up with familiar faces, and cheer as the parade rolls by. There are vintage cars, fire trucks, scouts, volunteers, and local politicians. And then there are the service members—Marines, sailors, soldiers, and veterans—who receive the loudest applause.

In the past, I cheered along with everyone, but didn’t feel a personal connection. That changed a few years ago when I saw the young sailors marching by. Suddenly, they didn’t look like soldiers; they looked like kids. It hit me that they could be my own children, and for the first time, I found myself tearing up for them.

But they still felt like a distant “them.”

This year, as we gather to honor those who have lost their lives in service, my perspective has shifted again. I’ll be thinking about how Jake will form friendships and face loss. As a medic, he’ll witness both life-saving moments and heart-wrenching tragedies. I can’t help but wonder how those experiences will shape him.

We’ve become a military family, which is something I never envisioned. We don’t fit the mold of a typical military family—I don’t believe America is the greatest nation, nor do I think any nation holds that title. I believe it’s our responsibility to appreciate what we have while also questioning the status quo.

Now, it feels like my duty to support Jake in any way I can. I’m in awe of his strength and discipline. He’s thriving in this new role, gaining confidence and a sense of purpose. He’s becoming someone who can tackle any challenge, a true hero in his own right.

As I watch the soldiers march this Memorial Day, I’ll feel a new connection to them. They are contemporaries of my brother, and we share the same mix of pride, fear, and love that their families do.

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In summary, Memorial Day has transformed from a mere picnic occasion into a profound moment of reflection for me, now that I have a brother serving in the military. It’s a reminder of the sacrifices made and the emotional journey that comes with having a loved one in service.