Memorial Day weekend a time when most Americans are enjoying an extra day off work, spending time with friends and family, hitting the beach, and simply enjoying the freedoms we too often take for granted. Our own home is abuzz with excitement as we prepare for and anticipate the return of our own hero, from whom we’ve been apart for the last several months. Still, I know that for so many military families, their hero never came home. Instead, they paid the ultimate price for our freedom. And I wanted my boys to understand that the freedom we enjoy comes at a cost. So, we took a trip to Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery to pay our respects to some of our nation’s fallen heroes.
It was a typical beautiful day in San Diego and I couldn’t help but notice the sense of peace that surrounded us as we walked through the cemetery. You could hear just the sounds of the birds chirping, the hushed voices of other visitors and the American flag at the entrance snapping in the wind. Occasionally, I had to remind my 6-year-old to keep his voice low and to walk not run, as we wanted to be respectful because we were in a very special place. 
As we walked through, I explained to him that this cemetery was a place where we buried our soldiers, the men and women who served and died for our country. At one point, he stopped to replace a small American flag that had fallen over at the base of a grave stone. At another, we placed a penny atop the marble headstone, to signify to the family and friends that we had visited.
As a military spouse living in Coronado, I feel blessed to be part of such an incredible community that is full of pride and patriotism. We have been lucky enough to experience life on both coasts, and during our time as a military family we have certainly experienced the full spectrum of what the military life is all about. One experience in particular has never left me.
In December 2007, while we were stationed in Virginia, I attended the funeral service for an American hero, a Navy SEAL named Mark Carter. I never knew Mark, but I will surely never forget him. He was killed while on deployment to Iraq while my husband was also deployed with the same command. It was the first casualty I had experienced since my husband started working in Naval Special Warfare and it shook me to my very core. Suddenly the war was brought home. And I knew that even though we’d never met, I needed to pay my respects.
So, eight months pregnant with our first son, I traveled to Arlington National Cemetery from Virginia Beach with some other command spouses for the funeral. I remember it being the most beautiful and awful thing I had ever experienced. So many amazing tributes were made and beautiful things were said about this young man who gave all his tomorrows so we could be free.
At the graveside service, I remember being astounded by the number of marble white headstones that sprawled across Section 60, marking the final resting places of those who gave their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan. This man would forever lie in the company of heroes. As the family was arriving, I caught a glimpse of a runner coming towards us who paused to kneel as they passed through. I remember seeing Mark’s girlfriend, stricken with grief over the loss of the love they shared and the life together they would now never have. As I stood shoulder to shoulder with some of the strongest and bravest women I would ever know, I prayed I would never be the one to receive that knock on my door. At the conclusion of the service, we linked arms to brace ourselves for the final honor we knew was coming. The shots cut through the cold December air and were followed by the playing of Taps. It was six days before Christmas.
It’s been nearly seven years since that day, and as I stood in Fort Rosecrans with my two sons, I thought of Mark Carter and how I felt standing in Arlington that day. I know I will carry that with me forever. I will never forget his sacrifice. That is what Memorial Day is about. So this weekend, take a moment to remember those who came before you and paid the ultimate price. Freedom isn’t free. It was paid for by the men and women who gave their lives, by the children who gave their fathers, by the women who buried their husbands. Remember. And make yours a life worth their sacrifice.
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Mary Douglas
Staff Writer
eCoronado.com
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