Joy of the Day, Day 56: Memorial Day

I woke up yesterday feeling a strong tug and quickly named it: a need to plan a Memorial Day barbecue. It was a little odd, to feel the need so urgently, but somewhere along the line our family has gotten in the habit of acknowledging Memorial Day—an occasion to first, remember the the fallen and second, to mark the symbolic start of summer—by either hosting or attending some sort of barbecue, and, to my mind and heart, this year is not the year to break with that fine tradition.

Memorial Day—a day of remembrance—feels important to me today, as does the act of remembering.

When I think about what it means to remember, I immediately visualize a spectrum. On the left, or west end lies sentimentalism and nostalgia—the domain of memory that is attached to deep emotion, and on the other, right end lies pragmatism and rote memory—important tools for remembering math facts or when “I” comes before “e.” As human beings, on any given day, we all live somewhere along the spectrum, and even move from one end to the other, from one moment to the next; an iPhone photo pops up to trigger sweet memories of a long-ago beach vacation just as I try to recall the items on my misplaced grocery list.

Some of us naturally lean more toward the sentimental and nostalgic than toward the pragmatic, and I am admittedly one of these; when, in a completely unrelated context, my friend Jason recently called sentimentalism a trap, I instinctively felt a little injured, defensive, compelled to argue the case in support of at least a small measure of nostalgia.

But the truth of it, having now thought it through, is that there is a happy balance in remembering: the comforting, anchoring recollection of all that I have loved and gotten used to, recognized for what it is through the clear, focused lens of where I stand today, becomes a stepping stone forward—secure, hopeful—rather than an obstacle blocking my path. Clear-eyed, informed by the memories I treasure, I try to find the middle place between dwelling in the past and casting it off entirely, moving forward into an uncertain future propelled by a surge of joy at my back. Now, even in the rain and even though it’s only us and three Frenches who are like family, I’m ready for the barbecue.

Today, Memorial Day and the gift of remembering is my joy. #joyinplace