When I was growing up, Memorial Day was a day spent at a local park we didn’t go to that often, packing up all the food my Mom made in coolers—hamburgers and hot dogs, ready to be grilled over charcoal. My brothers, sister, and I got to choose sodas at the store that we didn’t normally get. Like Fanta Cream or Cherry Soda, or Barq’s Root Beer. We would run and play and spend the day outdoors before heading home at night, pleasantly exhausted.
Many of us grew up with a similar tradition, I think. Somewhere along the way, it changes, and the day starts to take on a deeper meaning. You lose somebody you love, and another layer is added to the holiday. Still, the cookout and get-togethers, but now carrying the weight of who isn’t at the table.
You Don’t Have to Have a Plan
There’s no single right way to mark Memorial Day. Some families have a service or a tradition. Some don’t. Some lost a veteran. Some are remembering people who never served at all. All of that counts.
Dr. Alan Wolfelt, founder of the Center for Loss and Life Transition, says: “When words are inadequate, turn to ritual.” Most of us don’t have the right words. And on a day designed for remembering, that’s okay. You don’t have to find them. You just have to do something small.
Here are a few ideas.
Stop by the Cemetery
You don’t have to stay long. You don’t have to know what to say. Go early. Or go late, when the light is good. Bring a chair. Bring water. Bring somebody, or come alone.
The visit is the thing. That’s it.
Bring Something With You
Flowers are the obvious ones, and they matter. But there are other options, like a:
- Small flag, especially if they served.
- Stone, left on the headstone.
- Photograph, set in the grass for a few minutes before you take it home.
- Note, written by hand.
These aren’t for anyone else. They’re for you, and they’re for them. Grief educator Elreacy Dock says it well: “Rituals help us bridge the past with what we are experiencing in the present.”
Say Their Name
This is the one many of us forget most often. And it’s the one that matters most. Say their name out loud. At the grave. At the dinner table. In the car on the way home.
Tell them a story about them to your kids. Or to a friend who never met them. Or to someone who knew them too. Dr. Wolfelt has written that the more we tell the story, the easier it becomes to carry the grief.
Remembering the People We Love
Memorial Day is about remembering the people we love. And the remembering doesn’t have to be sad. Light the grill. Pick out a soda you wouldn’t usually get. Pull out the old photos and laugh at the haircuts. Call the family member who’s also missing them.
Terri Irwin lost her husband, “Crocodile Hunter” Steve Irwin, in 2006 when he was killed by a stingray barb while filming a documentary. He was just 44, and she was left to raise their two young children — Bindi, 8, and Robert, 2 — without him.
“If you can learn how to manage [grief] and honor the person that you miss,” she once said, “you can take something that is incredibly sad and have some form of positivity.”
Grief and joy can coexist. The day is big enough for both.
When the Day Is Hard
Some Memorial Days are harder than others. A recent loss. A first Memorial Day without someone. A reminder you weren’t ready for.
When that’s where you are, do less. Leave the gathering early. Skip it. Stay home. Grief doesn’t follow a calendar.
Grief author Megan Devine, whose husband died in 2009, built her whole career on one idea: grief isn’t a problem to be solved. It’s something you carry — and you’re allowed to carry it however you need to.
Carrie Phelps-Campbell, Blog Contributor