We Honor. We Remember

Memorial Day for me is a special day, filled with honor, reflection and respect. I have the gift and privilege of living in a small community tucked along Lake Erie just west of downtown Cleveland. Nestled on the shore, it is a delight to feel the fresh breeze and enjoy the sunrises, sandy beach and sunsets. On Memorial Day, things do not begin with noise. It begins with a shared stillness that binds us together as a community. 

At the small cemetery along the shore of Lake Erie, known as Lakeside Cemetery, morning arrives gently, as the lake sits close enough to feel like part of the gathering itself – quiet, steady, and watchful. Families arrive slowly along with city officials, school kids, scout groups, safety forces and well-wishers. Most walk, some bike, all in silence. Uniformed veterans take their places without ceremony, filling the small plot of land as the red, white and blue high school marching band quietly joins the ceremony. The day is not entered quickly here; it is stepped into with care.  Jackie and I walk or ride up each year, find our spot on the parade route leaving space for the family.  I am always amazed with the questions my grandkids ask while awaiting the start of the parade!

As the marching band plays, the music carries differently in this space, less performance than offering to those who are buried there, forefathers of our community who gave their lives at the formation and defense of our county. Notes drift across headstones instead of bleachers, softened by wind off the water and sunshine speckling the ground. The group gathered becomes one – in respect and gratitude.

Religious leaders speak, and their words do not rush to fill silence. They pause, and reflect, as much as they speak. Prayer, in this setting, feels less like explanation and more like acknowledgment. Still. Silent. Heartfelt.

Then comes the rifle salute. Sharp and deliberate. It echoes across the cemetery and fades into something larger than sound. What remains afterward is not emptiness, but weight on our hearts. And then the smallest movement carries its own meaning. Girl Scouts and brownies move gently among the graves, placing fresh lowers with careful hands on headstones and monuments. Not decoration, but participation. A quiet way of saying that remembrance belongs to every generation. And then taps are played – stoic, piercing, respectful.

In that moment, the cemetery is no longer only a resting place. It becomes a connection and a real conversation between those who remain and those who are no longer here to answer. Afterwards the group walks in silence, back to the City gazebo, joining the middle school band, who play a series of music honoring the different branches of the military. A veteran speaks on behalf of the fallen – touching hearts in so many ways, recapping the names of those from town who fought so valiantly since the beginning our country’s history.

What I love about Memorial Day is it does not ask for grand gestures. It asks for attention. A pause. A willingness to stop long enough for memory to catch up with today. 

Be sure to take a moment on Monday, find some quiet place, and reflect on those who gave so much so we can enjoy the life we lead. Their courage and commitment are unwavering.

May God bless America.