Sue Lani Madsen: Memories made and recalled on Memorial Day

Some celebrate Memorial Day with speeches at military monuments or visits to family cemeteries. Far more Americans take to the road to start the summer travel season. This year, we traveled. The first leg east on U.S. Highway 2 through Montana set a contemplative context to remember those who died in service to the country. The roadside crosses trapped my attention.

Sometimes, too many times, there’s more than one cross at a location signifying those who died along the highway. Do the crosses conjure unbidden the sights, sounds and smells of a difficult scene to local first responders on the way to some ordinary errand? Do the EMTs second-guess their actions, wondering if the outcome could have been different “if only?” Every small-town fire station and ambulance garage we passed triggered a twinge of empathy.

Minot High School graduation was Sunday afternoon, and we looked forward to celebrating grandson Gabe’s milestone with three days of happy family gatherings in North Dakota. But first we had to make it through Montana.

While surely a well-intentioned gesture by the Montana Highway Department to inspire the living to drive responsibly, roadside memorials trigger more than the intended reactions. This trip they seemed particularly prominent after attending two memorial services within a week’s time, both with ties to our volunteer fire department.

About a mile from my house is a simple metal marker with the initials M.C. It’s not nearly as prominent as Montana’s white crosses. Most people would cruise past it without noticing, especially in spring when it hides in the weeds at the edge of a lush field. There’s a picturesque view to our ranch across the field. It’s a sharp corner that demands the full attention of any driver. It memorializes the spot where M.C. looked up to enjoy the view and missed the corner. There’s no margin for error riding a motorcycle on a road without shoulders. I was the first EMT on scene. We flew him out with the helicopter medics, but M.C. didn’t make it.

It took me several years to recognize the source of the physical stress reaction that corner triggered at seasons when the field and the view were at their peak. Finally, I connected passing the simple metal marker to the apologetic thoughts and sometimes a tearful, “I’m sorry, Mike, I did my best,” when turning that corner.

It’s an insight into the PTSD that Memorial Day can bring on for retired military and their families. The ubiquitous flags, the solemn ceremonies at military cemeteries or even Memorial Day ads celebrating the start of barbecue season and family gatherings are all reminders. Somebody isn’t there. Maybe it happened 60 years ago or maybe it was six years ago, but the memories can be as sharp and fresh as if the news arrived yesterday.

As sharp as the edges of a Montana roadside cross. As sharp as a corner on country road.

Memorial Day is particularly dedicated to those who died in service to our country, but in some families an older tradition makes it a weekend for tending the gravesites of all family and friends. It’s an unusual holiday dedicated to grief and remembrance in American culture.

For veterans, it can bring to mind real faces and places, literal physical trauma, second-guessing actions and survivor’s guilt. Veterans, check in on your battle buddies. It takes sharing feelings with those who’ve been there and done that and sometimes counseling to shed the ghosts. I still search out the M.C. marker along the road, but I have a new greeting when I pass that picturesque corner. Rest in peace, Mike.

And congratulations to the Class of 2023. As the Minot High School graduates were reminded by their faculty speaker, graduation isn’t the end. Now they must keep building their lives one moment and one decision as a time. Take a piece of advice from Mike. Remember to slow down and enjoy the view.

Contact Sue Lani Madsen at rulingpen@gmail.com