Widow's Voice

Memorial Day Weekend: A Time For Reflection

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The Memorial Day Weekend sort of crept up on me this year. Back in my former locale at the Jersey Shore, this weekend ushers in the official start of a short, yet very active, summer season of beaching, barbecue gatherings, boating, fishing and so many other outdoor activities. 

My late husband Rich, who served militarily as a Navy Corpsman, later served as the Bar Chairman for our local American Legion Post managing the canteen (bar) and seasonally open Tiki Bar with its beautiful creekside location and boat slips. 

Memorial Day Weekend was also the occasion of a large parade in which I marched when serving as Sergeant-at-Arms for the Ladies Auxiliary for Post 348, and of course solemn observations for those who are no longer with us that served our nation militarily.

During those Memorial Day parades, people would shout, “Happy Memorial Day” or “Thank you for your service,” to those in uniform, but technically, that isn’t an appropriate greeting. Of course the members of our Armed Forces should always be thanked, but their honors are officially reserved for Veteran’s Day which occurs in November. That is the time we thank them for their Service. 

In the South, where it reaches 90 degree temperatures by May and remains very warm through fall, there is no immediacy to get out there and enjoy the warmth of the great outdoors because of a calendar date. Even if it’s only 60 degrees, if it’s Memorial Day Weekend, people in New Jersey (and at other Northern waterfront venues) will be up on the beach or infiltrating beach bars from Cape May up to Sandy Hook and keep doing so up until Labor Day before the Off-season occurs and the beach towns are returned to “The Locals”.

I’m so glad for the decades that Rich and I got to be called an Honorary Jersey Shore Local during our time living in Brick Township in Ocean County, NJ. Because of the short summer season, there is something magical about that time of year when we feel the need to make every day count. And we did. 

And this weekend also brings another personally poignant memory for me. It marks the birth date and date of death of my nephew who passed two years ago two days before his 39th birthday. Zac was the only son of my late sister, Manette, who passed in 2018. When my sister was a single mom for a time, I’d returned to my hometown of Hackensack, New Jersey, after losing my lease in NYC. I helped raise Zac and he once referred to me as his Second Mom and I thought of him as the son I never had. They are both missed by so many each and every day.

Zac and His Mom. Both held in our Hearts and Minds and Memories.
Zac and his girlfriend, Aleli.

This weekend will bring a quiet observation of all who’ve gone on including my late husband, Rich, my dad, a WWII Veteran, who passed a year ago at 95 and his brothers, my uncles, and all who have sacrificed and served. And of course we also should remember the contributions of so many Military Dogs that helped to serve us as well. 

Have a restful and reflective weekend. 

About Lisa Begin-Kruysman

Originally from New Jersey, artist/writer/blogger Lisa Begin-Kruysman now calls Southeast Georgia and Florida home. It was during a road trip in October 2021, when she and her husband Rich, who served militarily as a Navy Corpsman, were returning south after celebrating their 25th Wedding Anniversary, that he became ill, passing just three weeks later. The author of several books, including Dog's Best Friend (McFarland & Co. 2014) mostly inspired by the special human-canine bond, Lisa serves on the Board of Directors for the Dog Writers Association of America and now returns to blogging posting for Widow's Voice with the intention of sharing her personal experience of widowhood with those who know the struggles first-hand and to perhaps help those who struggle to understand the daily challenges facing those who've lost a spouse or significant other. She is currently writing a memoir about her Widowed Experience and the comfort she has derived from her relationship with dogs.