Make Memorial Day a Memorial Again
To most Americans, Memorial Day is a holiday to mark the beginning of summer; a time for pool parties and barbecues. The holiday has its roots in the Civil War, but it didn’t become a federal holiday until 1971. By then, the post-WWII generation had thoroughly suburbanized the American Dream and every nuclear family had their own … everything. Memorial Day entered the chat right when WWII dads needed a convenient distraction from watching their sons shipped off to our first post-industrial war of convenience.
Veterans, as a community, have evolved a lot since then. Whereas our dads and grandpas only had Jack Daniels to confide in back then, nowadays we have Mary Jane and a professional therapists. As awesome as that is, that shouldn't mean the mark we left on Memorial Day should be wiped away like a dry erase board. Just because you see us sitting on the peripheries doesn't mean we don't know how to party, it just means we know our priorities.
This Memorial Day, treat it like one.
Having a culturally self-aware BBQ shouldn't be seen as a damper on the festivities, at least not if you're a rank and file believer. Early Christians didn't see death as the worst thing to happen to you. They believed in honor and truth, and they know only cowards truly die and fools fail to fully live. When a fellow Saint died, they were deposited into the earth, like seeds, and their friends held an annual shindig to watch as legacy grow over time. Sure, they missed you, but re-membering the Saints was something done every week with bread and wine. The annual holy day was called a Feast.
If our dead battle buddies have our backs, they wouldn't want us to waste our lives moping over theirs. They'd want us to make the most of ours.
So how should we remember the dead; with sobs of grief and waterworks? Sure, if the pain is fresh. But when it's passed, keep re-membering them. As the core memories bleed together over time, the sadness will no longer be the only emotion you attach to their memory. Eventually the hard, heavy memories will fade and the easy, lighter ones will rise to the surface. Let them. That's how you know it's time to pour one out for the homies, when you're both able to appreciate the gesture.
Veterans know how to prioritize mission essential tasks, it's what got us through our service. The healthiest vets I know are the hardest party hounds because they've seen the true value of human life and they don't want to waste it. And they've made the peace with the fact their friends wouldn't want them to waste it either. If our dead battle buddies really have our backs, they wouldn't want us to waste our lives moping over theirs. They'd want us to make the most of ours.
Memorial Day is a great opportunity for Civilian Allies to shine by centering military voices and concerns. It's called Memorial Day because it was created as a way to remember the cost of our way of life. It's literally in the name; all Civilian Allies need to do is let Memorial Day be a memorial. That doesn't mean there's no party, far from it. It simply means incorporating military culture into the festivities. The good news for Grunts is that there's two ways you can Make Memorial Day a memorial again, a Choose Your Own (politics or religion) Adventure, if you will.
Option 1: "Missing wo/man Chair"
If you're more politically minded, go to any of the older Veteran Service Organizations. I'm talking your local VFW or Legion Posts; they're everywhere because veterans are everywhere. There you'll find a small, round table set for one in a place of honor. It's called a POW/MIA Table, and it memorializes those serving in the military who are missing, captured, and/or presumed dead. It is a solemn display, with each item representing a specific aspect of their sacrifice and the hope for their return. I won't go into the specifics here, but it is highly ritualized.
If you want to be a Civilian Ally, go find one and ask someone what they all mean. Then replicate it at your Memorial Day, inviting a veteran to set a place at the (picnic?) table for their missing battle buddy. Serve the place as you would every other, and clear it last when the party winds down. Every veteran will know what it is, you won't have to explain it other than to other Civilians. Which you will do, because veterans shouldn’t have to teach the uninitiated unless they want to.
Option 2: "Elijah Chair"
If you're more religiously minded, there's another way to fully appreciate the spiritual density of the holy day. At a bris, the Jewish circumcision ritual, an Elijah Chair is reserved for the prophet because he is a crucial participant. A seat and cup are reserved for him annually for the Passover Seder symbolizing hope for the coming of the Messiah. Elijah is unique in the Hebrew Bible because he never experiences death. According to 2 Kings, he splits the Jordan in two and "crossed over on dry ground" (v.8) to the Promised After-Land. His is an echo of Moses dividing the waters to escape broken promises (Ex.14:22) and Joshua splitting the same river on the way to a promising land (Joshua 3:17).
An empty chair at a party represents the hope that death is not the worst thing that can happen. You don't have to be a believer to make sure we're doing the best we can for those we care about, whether living or dead. If you want to be a Civilian Ally to rank and file believers, then reserve a seat for the Saints who have departed before their time. Not only is it a culturally sensitive thing to do, it is also the right thing to do. Memorial Day is supposed to be a memorial, after all. Let's make it one, so that we can All participate more fully in the rituals that give us all life.