Having worked alongside the military for most of my career, Memorial Day is an important day for me. It’s an opportunity to take a moment to slow down and remember those who have paid the ultimate price in service to the country we all love.

But while many of us will be formally recognizing their sacrifice through memorial events and parades, the enormity of their sacrifice can sometimes be too big to comprehend. And for that reason, every Memorial Day, I focus on one person’s sacrifice, as a way to make the recognition of the day more real.

That person was my friend, Major Stuart Wolfer. He has been gone now 17 years.

It was a Friday night on my third tour in Baghdad in 2008 when a group of about 12 of us met for Friday night Shabbat service and then, as we would normally do, went to the chow hall together for a meal. Stu, abs everyone else, was all smiles of what amounted to a rare ‘night out’ in Baghdad. It was the kind of camaraderie that comes easily in a war zone, and Stu was talking about his family back home. By Sunday, he was gone, killed by an Iranian rocket when it hit the gym in the Green Zone.

Every spring, Stu’s family organizes a memorial Zoom to recognize the anniversary of his death, catch up, and watch how his family and friends have gotten on with another year without him. On the Zoom you’ll see current and former US military, retired Australian military, current and former State Department folks, contractors, and, most importantly, Stu’s wife and kids. This year, I had the opportunity to host Stu’s amazing sister and nephew at the Senate Dining Room. Stu’s death is the thing that connected us originally, but it’s his memory is what keeps us connecting, year after year. We all remarked how much he would have enjoyed dining with us, seeing all the senators of both parties sharing the same space, talking policy and politics. We took a photo that, like so many others since 2008, should have included him.

Writing about Stu every Memorial Day is a ritual that helps me personalize the power of this day, and make plain the gaping hole left in the wake of one soldier’s sacrifice to one family.

So today, on this most sacred of days, I urge you to personalize the importance of this day. Find a single person or a single story to recognize or learn about. I urge you to ask the veterans in your family about the person they knew best who never made it back, and to listen to their specific story. These are some of the most important stories we can pass down to each other. Because as the stories live on, so do the people who died so that we could live safety.

I firmly believe that service is the greatest love letter you can offer your country. So thank you today to all the active duty, Guard, Reserves and veterans — you help us remember the meaning of this day for those who cannot tell the stories themselves.

With appreciation,

Elissa