Gary Brown: Remembering lost loved ones on Memorial Day

Memorial Day fosters a conflict of emotions.

The day somberly commemorates men and women whose lives sadly were ended by war or other military actions and at the same time it more joyously celebrates the start of a summer season that many of us personally await with eagerness.

The holiday remembers the cold reality of the loss of loved ones – my Uncle Floyd was killed in action during the Korean War – while it, contradictorily, symbolizes the arrival of cherished warmer months of the year.

We get sad when memories are sparked of military men and women who perished in the fighting of far too many conflicts, and yet, when those recollections are put aside, our hearts are made happy by the start of the seasonal activities that we so enjoy.

Somehow, we are able to quickly switch from standing with our hats over our hearts in the morning as we watch Memorial Day parades to holding a hamburger in one hand and a hot dog in the other during gatherings of friends and family at afternoon backyard barbecues.

In the modern era of informalized dress codes, going from traditional public holiday memorial service to post-ceremony games and grub-grabbing doesn't even require a change of clothing. If the late-May weather is hot enough, shorts, T-shirts and sneakers will do for both occasions.

Just keep a raincoat handy for sudden weather emergencies. Memorial Day, occurring in spring, is one holiday when rain all too often surprises us, dampening our spirit, almost as if the heavens have opened up in recognition of the lost warriors and weeping has begun over our continuing inhumanity to our fellow Man.

Learning why the picture hung

I will admit, I didn't think much about my Uncle Floyd when I was growing up. He was just a picture on a wall in the home of my Aunt Jessie and Uncle Frank. I was born in the winter of 1951, and he was killed in the autumn of the same year in Korea in the Battle of Bloody Ridge. I was far too young to know the toll of war or feel sadness when his photo was hung near a doorway in the living room.

Nothing much was said about the image, which pictured Uncle Floyd – standing among rocks on a rugged hillside – smiling, but appearing tired from his wartime experience. The usual somber adult conversations about his death had long since ended by the time I was nearing the height to which the frame hung and finally asked about the man in the photo.

"We lost your Uncle Floyd in Korea," my great-aunt Jessie simply said about her son, who actually was my older cousin, once removed, a distinction that didn't seem to be necessary to make once he was gone.

For years, before I researched his fate in online archives, the only detail I needed to know was that he liked baseball "almost as much as you do," my aunt had added.

We would have played catch, she said, if he had survived. Instead, he became a statistic.

Thankfully, we have a holiday in which people who are lost to war are remembered as names and not just numbers.

Reverence is a reason for the holiday

And so, that's why I recall Uncle Floyd each Memorial Day. Briefly I remember him, not at length, because it is enough that we commemorate our lost loved ones and then move on to happier activities of the day.

Those who are lost likely would have wanted that happier and lengthier life for themselves. We should consider it appropriate that we don't squander our opportunities.

It is enough that we stop to recognize that, when wars are thought necessary to preserve our freedom, there exist those individuals -- gallantly patriotic and courageous in battle -- who are willing to step up and make the supreme sacrifice.

Our responsibility on this holiday is not to question whether that sacrifice, upon reflection, really was necessary. No war is wished for by its participants. And few wars are justified. But the need for war is something for our leaders initially and historians in hindsight to debate.

On Memorial Day we should merely doff our caps, cover our hearts, and bow our heads in reverent memory of our lost loved ones.

Reach Gary at gary.brown.rep@gmail.com. On Twitter: @gbrownREP.

This article originally appeared on The Repository: Sadness should give way to joy on Memorial Day