Tomorrow is Memorial Day in the United States. At church, we were reminded of those who have died in service to our country, the veterans who have served, and the families who have served and sacrificed alongside the service members. A specific memory has come to mind for this Memorial Day. In high school, I was lucky enough to go to Hawaii. A family member had been generous to my family, and my parents used some of the funds to take us on a family vacation to Hawaii. There were many wonderful sites I was lucky enough to behold. I saw an erupting volcano, a monk seal, and the islands’ great beauty. What I found most emotionally impactful was our visit to Pearl Harbor. As a child, when my mom, siblings, and I were doing Meals on Wheels, I was lucky enough to have met a veteran who had been present at Pearl Harbor. He was on the shore and survived the attack. We later went to Washington, D.C, and found his name engraved on the WWII memorial. I still think of him often whenever I hear or see anything about WWII history.
We went to see the USS Arizona Memorial. It’s been a decade and a half, so the details are fuzzy. I do remember the design of the memorial starting at a higher point, then going lower, and then coming back up again. From what I remember, this represented going down to hopelessness and returning after realizing that there is still hope and good in humanity. There was still oil leaking from the ship, which could be seen on the water’s surface. I remember looking down and seeing the oil. Something that happened so long ago was still sending something forth, reminding those above of the fate those entombed in her had met. I don’t remember if this information was displayed on plaques or if a tour guide had told us. Right after the bombing, divers had started the recovery effort so that those who had sunk with the ship could be brought up to the surface. There ended up being so many dead that the choice was made to leave the rest of the soldiers entombed and to build a memorial above. It felt eerie, knowing that I was standing above hundreds of the dead. I was a teenager with so many opportunities ahead of me, opportunities that those men never had. As an adult, I think of their families. Their mothers and fathers, who experienced the most significant pain known to humankind, losing a child. I think of the wives and children who, from that day forward, had to move forward in life without an essential member of their family. None of this is to mention the friends, extended family members, and community members who lost someone they held dear. The losses that occurred that day were felt for years and generations. So much is lost when a life is lost in war. It is a ripple effect that is known only too keenly.
Memorial Day began to commemorate those who died in the Civil War. That war is still the bloodiest war ever fought on American shores. So many perished that everyone, no matter what side they had been on, knew someone who had been lost. I cannot imagine the pain of seeing that not only has a family member of one’s own been lost, but also the loved ones of those around them. Those who lose to war also extend beyond those who die on the battlefield. Each year in the United States, we lose six thousand veterans to suicide. These lives must also be honored, and as a society, we must work towards a world where veterans have the support they need once they return home. I pray for a day when there is no longer a need for war and no more need to die in the service of protecting their homeland. Until such a day arrives, ensuring those who serve have the care they need and those who are left behind after the death of a loved one do not go without is essential. If you are looking for ways to help, the organizations that are already doing the work are listed below.
Thank you to those who have died in service. Thank you to those families who continue to live with that loss. I am grateful to you, and I pray for you.
Living on the Spectrum 
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