Remember Them. Honor Them.

Here we go again. This is our second Memorial Day without Steve. It doesn’t get any easier.

We lost our oldest son, Steve, in an Army Aviation accident on November 10, 2023. Since then, I’ve tried to cope by keeping busy. But one of the many things I’ve learned during the past year and a half is that you can’t “out-busy” grief. No matter how many miles on the elliptical, cookies in the oven, or grandchild ball games you go to, the sadness doesn’t go away. It can suddenly crush you like a tsunami and you’re bawling at a red light or sitting with your head in your hands on your bed wailing like a foghorn. You’re doing ok, shuffling forward, and wham. It’s Memorial Day. Again.

Memorial Day — the day that our nation sets aside to honor those military members who gave their lives to our country — forces you to stop and pause. Before November 10, 2023, we thought we understood. Every Memorial Day, we said a blessing over our hamburgers and baked beans, and we paused; we remembered our Fallen. But we didn’t really get it. It turns out that no matter how much empathy you think you have, some things just don’t hit you until they hit you. And we were hit, knocked out cold, the day we lost Steve. Now, our family and the families of so many other Fallen Heroes, truly understand Memorial Day.

Memorial Day is so hard. Honestly, I’d prefer to just spend the day wallowing. One of the things I’ve learned in the past year and a half is that I’m very good at wallowing. I’ve also learned that wallowing can be all-consuming. Initially after you lose a loved one, when you’re deep in wallow, you have no room for anything other than sadness. Eventually, and the timeline differs for all, but at some point, for the sake of your loved ones and your own mental well-being, you have to make room for other emotions. This year on Memorial Day, I’m making room to let pride and honor in. Because Steve — and all those who have given their lives for this country — should never be forgotten. They should always be honored.

This Memorial Day, let me tell you about our oldest son.

Steve, first and foremost, loved his family, his wife, his boys. He loved lifting, working out, Army rugby, the Philadelphia Eagles. He loved music, beer, wings, Mexico Beach, FL and watching surfing videos. He loved so many people and so many things. But he dedicated his life to his country. He loved America. As a second grader, he was at the welcome home ceremony for the heroes of the Battle of Mogadishu. He witnessed Lee Greenwood live, sing “I’m Proud to be an American” on the tarmac. He’d always wanted to go to West Point, but that solidified it. He wanted to be an Army Officer. He made the most of his journey; he loved his profession. He loved the comradery. He loved being good at his job. He loved flying. He truly believed in what he did.

 Through his fifteen plus years on active duty, Steve lost more close friends than anyone should ever have to lose. He dedicated his workouts on Memorial Day and every day, to the Fallen. He wore memorial bracelets daily, rotating three that were etched with the names of three friends. He lived his life fully for those who had not. For Steve, every day was Memorial Day.

And now, every day is Memorial Day for us. But once a year, the rest of the nation joins us. I have a request. For those who are blessed to live in a nation where people like Steve give their lives for your freedom, please stop sometime on Monday. Stop and appreciate those who gave it all. Stop and realize how blessed you are. And for those Gold Star Families who live Memorial Day daily, I’m so sorry, yet so grateful for the Hero you loved. I pray that this Memorial Day our pride and gratitude overrule our sorrow, and we honor our Fallen. They will never be forgotten.