Every year on Memorial Day, Americans pause. We visit cemeteries draped in small American flags. We watch parades. We hear taps echo across open fields. And in those quiet moments, we are reminded of something that should never leave us: freedom is never free.
It is paid for in full by the men and women who put on the uniform of this nation, who left their families and their homes, and who gave, in many cases, everything they had. Not tomorrow. Not someday. Everything, right then, without hesitation. The freedoms we exercise every single day, to speak, to gather, to vote, to simply live, were purchased by their sacrifice. We owe them a debt that can never truly be repaid.
But on this Memorial Day, I want to talk about something beyond remembrance. I want to talk about responsibility.
“Remembrance without action is not honor. It is silence dressed up as tribute.”
Because for every name etched into a wall or engraved on a headstone, there is a veteran who came home. A veteran who walks among us today, in our neighborhoods, in our grocery stores, at our community events. A veteran who served this country with the same courage and commitment as those we mourn, and who returned to find that the country they fought for was not always ready to fight for them.
That is the uncomfortable truth we must be willing to speak out loud on Memorial Day: too many of our living veterans are struggling.
They struggle to access the healthcare they need, physical and mental, after years of service that took a profound toll on their bodies and minds. They struggle with housing insecurity and, in far too many cases, homelessness. They struggle to find employment that recognizes and values the extraordinary discipline, leadership, and skills they developed in uniform. They struggle to navigate a labyrinthine system of benefits that should be straightforward but often is not. And too many of them struggle quietly, because the culture of service that made them great soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines also taught them not to ask for help.
“We ask them to give everything. The very least we can do is make sure the door is open when they come home.”
This is not acceptable. And it is not who we are supposed to be as a nation.
Honoring those who gave their lives must go hand in hand with honoring those who gave their years, their health, their peace of mind, and their time with their families. Memorial Day cannot be a single day of solemn reflection followed by eleven months of indifference. It must be a commitment, renewed each year, that we will do better.
What does doing better look like? It means ensuring that every veteran knows what benefits they have earned and has clear, accessible pathways to claim them. It means funding mental health programs that meet veterans where they are, not just inside a VA building, but in their communities. It means creating employment pipelines that translate military experience into civilian opportunity, because the person who led a platoon under fire absolutely has what it takes to lead a team in any boardroom or on any job site. It means investing in veteran housing initiatives so that no one who served under the American flag sleeps under a bridge.
It means treating our commitment to veterans not as a budget line to be trimmed, but as a sacred obligation to be fulfilled.
“Every freedom we enjoy was paid for in full by those who wore this nation’s uniform. We cannot honor the fallen and abandon the living.”
I think about the young men and women who are enlisting today, signing their names on a line that says they are willing to put their lives on the table for this country. They do that, in part, because they trust that this country will hold up its end of the bargain. That if they come home, they will be taken care of. That their service will be honored not just on a federal holiday, but in policy, in funding, in access, and in opportunity.
We must not break that trust.
This Memorial Day, I encourage every American to do two things. First, take a moment of genuine, unhurried reflection for those who did not come home. Say their names if you know them. Sit with the weight of what they gave. Do not let that become a casual checkbox between the barbecue and the ballgame.
And second, carry that reflection forward into action. Ask what you can do, in your community, through your vote, through your voice, to make sure that the veterans living on your street, in your city, in your state have what they need to thrive. Support veteran service organizations. Advocate for veteran-friendly policies. Hire veterans. See veterans.
Freedom is never free. That truth cuts deep on Memorial Day. But let it also cut through complacency. Let it remind us that the price of freedom is not only paid on the battlefield, it is also paid in the responsibility we carry to care for every person who answered the call.
We owe the fallen our memory. We owe the living our action. And we owe ourselves the honesty to recognize that honoring one without the other is not enough.
Antoine Thompson is a former New York state senator who has now lived in Maryland for more than a decade. He is currently running for delegate in Maryland’s 25th District.