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“It Was My Pleasure”: The True Meaning of Memorial Day

“It Was My Pleasure”: The True Meaning of Memorial Day

Last updated on: March 28, 2016 at 9:47 pm by Tod Worner

“It Was My Pleasure”: The True Meaning of Memorial Day 2016-03-28T21:47:57-06:00 Tod Worner

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In all, it lasted about fifteen minutes. But it was our pleasure.

They had already arrived. Of course they had. They were veterans. Older and a bit hunched, they smiled, they shook one another’s hand and squeezed the opposing arm. “Good to see you,” they seemed to say. “Good to see you.”

And while the cemetery was small, their presence seemed to further sanctify it. Wearing sharp black blazers and pants, white shirts and gloves, they came. Their smart side caps were speckled with pins denoting service. Some had glasses. Some walked with a limp. Many were gray. All walked slowly. And their faces were lined – deeply lined.

And it would begin. It was Memorial Day.

Our hats came off as a recording of The Star Spangled Banner was played. An offered speech was short but dignified. The prayer was earnest and devout. Memorial Day is not about car sales and barbecues and swimming, our leader told us. It is about the fallen. It is about remembering them. And it is about living a life that is worthy of their sacrifice.

Within moments, weary aged soldiers’ arms were raised in a salute. Standing in front of us, our young daughters startled and backed deeper against our legs as seven guns were shot. Crack…….Crack……..Crack……. There is no greater silence than the pause between three measured volleys of gunfire. And then the bugler, standing conspicuously apart from the rest, mournfully played Taps.

And then it was done.

The veterans smiled as they handed my daughters empty shells still laden with their smoky aroma. We greeted friends we noticed among the small gathering of observers. We looked at headstones jutting from the earth and flag adorned markers earth-covered and weather-worn. And we heard laughter. Laughter. Laughter from one group in the cemetery – an initially jarring, yet wonderful sound. It was the sound of the right and true legacy of soldiers long dead – soldiers who knew that laughter is a product of joy and joy is a product of freedom. And that freedom, sadly, isn’t always free.

As we explored with our daughters obscure gravestones with hidden stories, I noticed the veterans getting into their cars. And with my daughter, we interrupted ourselves and trotted over to them.

“Thank you for your service,” I offered while shaking the hand of a man with tinted glasses, a gray crewcut and a broad smile.

“It was my pleasure,” he simply returned.

It was my pleasure.

On November 19, 1863, in the thick of Civil War and before there was an official Memorial Day, President Abraham Lincoln offered this at the dedication of Soldier’s National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

“We have come to dedicate a portion of [this Civil War’s battlefield], as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

When I think of the last full measure of devotion of the war-dead, when I consider the sacrifice of the men and women who showed up to lead us in solemn and prayerful remembrance today, I can’t help but see that smiling veteran with the tinted glasses and gray crewcut. And I think how in spite of the sacrifices he made and the losses he knew, to my meager offering of gratitude, he could sincerely and gracefully respond,

It was my pleasure.

No, sir. With all due respect.

It was my pleasure.

To all veterans who have served and sacrificed in the name of God, country and family, thank you.

Thank you.

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