I wrote this in 2010 after attending The Michigan Senate’s 16thth Annual Memorial Day Service. Each year this service honors Michigan residents Killed In Action during the previous 12 months. That year there was 13 fallen Veterans. The memory as strong today as then. I attend this year, for the first time since that day, to give strength to those families who walk these halls for the first time ….

Memorial Day 2010

My heels clicked loudly on the hard tiled floor.

We walked together, as a family, quiet, heads down and in deep thought. The echo of my shoes was the only sound filling the empty corridor.

My legs starting to tremble as we reach the Senate Floor. The oversize Mahogany door opens. A rush of ‘old’ whiffed up my nostrils as the dead air hung heavy in the room. I sucked my breath in as instantly a lump whaled up inside my throat. “No, not now” I say to myself, as I have successfully pushed back these tears in the past.

My eyes lock- not on the rich atmosphere of these Senate walls, as I should have. But I stare at the face of a Marine on the back of a man’s shirt. A face so young, he seemed to be smiling right out of the picture at me. I could not read his name or the date he died, because the tears forming in my eyes made it difficult. I had to drag my eyes away, as I  see all of the family wearing the same shirt. Chills run up my arms. Reality hits. We are not the only family devastated with grief.

I walked dazed, head down again. I pushed back the memories of Ben’s young face, once smiling…..

I sit, unable to open the Memorial booklet, that I can’t even remember putting in my hand. I look over the railing, onto the Senate floor. Immediately in awe at the sight. Many men were in full uniform, Military Veterans lined the back wall, and Flags all around. In the center of the room were 12 flags, each representing a Fallen Michigan Veteran from the past year. These flag folded properly, overflowing in the basket, that was escorted by Military.

My thoughts heavy, my eyes jump to the families around me.

There was an older man, a Veteran himself, standing proud in a salute. His hands shaking. His wrinkles were set deep, full of as much history as the walls behind him. I wondered what memories he was struggling with…

Behind him a Woman stood tall, swaying back and forth, mouth set in a frown. Next to her was a younger woman, hair pulled back tight, in full Dress Military uniform. It was hard to read the look in her eyes, was it confusion? fear? anguish? Just then a little curly haired girl, in a bright pink dress, reaches up and grabs her hand tightly. The look of innocence on that child face…. the dichotomy of their expressions. A big huge tear hangs off my eye lashes. It blurs my vision, for that I am grateful.

I reach down puling at the end of my long skirt. Using it as a Kleenex, I wipe the tears that begin to fall rapidly.

My mind starts to wonder …. remembering when Memorial Day meant a long weekend, a party, the beginning of summer. My thoughts are cut off quickly, when the sound of Bag Pipes playing in the background brings me right back.

“HM3 Benjamin Castiglione….” that hollow feeling comes again as they read his name.

A Ceremony to Honor.  A ritual for our Heroes.  A unbearable loss.

I turn to the stranger standing on the other side of me. We look at each other, tears falling down both our cheeks.  A awkward silence hung in the air. We hugged. All of us in this room, in some sad way, now bonded together…