This morning, like so many Memorial Days before, I woke up early, made a quiet cup of coffee, and opened Facebook. And like clockwork, there it was—a post from my dear friend in Maine, a fellow Marine, remembering the brothers we lost in combat. He’s never missed a Memorial Day. Never missed a chance to keep their memory alive. Every year, he reminds us of the cost—of the names, the faces, and the stories behind the ultimate sacrifice. And every year, I’m deeply moved by his unwavering devotion.
Leading up to this day, I found myself reflecting not just on the brothers we lost, but on the families they left behind. The empty seats at dinner tables. The birthdays missed. The children growing up with stories instead of hugs. The quiet that lingers long after the bugle sounds. That’s the kind of hole war leaves behind—not just in battle, but in homes and hearts across this country.
Service has always called on the few to carry the burden for the many. And while this nation has often debated the motives behind our conflicts, there’s one thing we must never debate: the honor of those who answered the call. Whether in the sands of Fallujah or the streets of Baghdad, these were men and women who believed in something greater than themselves. Who were willing to trade comfort for courage. Who didn’t ask for guarantees, only the chance to serve.
Many of them came from humble beginnings. From small towns on the edge of the map. From forgotten places, where toughness wasn’t an act—it was a requirement. I was one of those kids. So was my friend from Maine. So were the brothers we lost. We didn’t come from privilege. We came from neighborhoods that tested us, and that made us ready. Ready to carry a rifle. Ready to stand a post. Ready to go wherever we were needed.
And through it all, one thing bound us: Semper Fidelis—Always Faithful. It’s more than a motto. It’s a way of life. A promise we make to each other, and to the fallen. That we will never forget. That we will keep telling their stories. That their names will not fade with time or distance. My friend from Maine has honored that promise more consistently than anyone I know. He embodies what it means to be faithful. To remember. To serve, even in memory.
So today, I want to say thank you—to him, and to every veteran who continues to carry the weight of remembrance. Thank you to every Gold Star family for your unimaginable strength. And thank you to the brothers and sisters who gave everything, so that we might live freely under the flag you carried into battle.
I’ll keep looking for those Facebook posts every Memorial Day, and I’ll keep remembering. Because Semper Fidelis is forever. Because the fallen deserve nothing less. And because faithful hearts like my friend’s keep the spirit of our brothers alive—not just today, but every day.
May we always be worthy of their sacrifice.
If this reflection stirred something in you—if it reminded you of someone you’ve lost, or of the values we carry forward in their honor—take a moment to share it. Follow or subscribe on Substack, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify, and help keep these stories alive.
Because remembering is a form of service. And faithfulness, even in quiet moments, keeps the spirit of our brothers and sisters alive.
Until tomorrow—live boldly, love deeply, and stay faithful.
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