Episode 164: The Quiet Weight of Memorial Day
5/20/26
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You are listening to the Life Reconstructed podcast with me, Teresa Amaral Beshwate, grief
expert, best-selling author and widow. I’m so glad you’re here because in this and every
episode, I shine a light on the widowed way forward.
Hello and welcome to episode 164. On Memorial Day in the US, we honor military personnel who
died in service. For most Americans, it’s a long weekend, the unofficial start of summer, and
often includes a cookout. For widowed people—it can feel unexpectedly heavy, bringing grief,
memories, and the sharp awareness of who is missing. In this episode, we’ll talk about how to
care for yourself, honor what matters, and navigate the day with more intention and less
pressure.
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Memorial Day in the United States is a long weekend filled with US flags, barbecues, travel and
family gatherings. Here in my little farm community, we gather on Saturday and flood the
cemetery with large flags and decorate the graves of each service member. On Monday we hold a
simple service to honor and remember. The honor guard plays taps and I’m reminded of the day the
folded flag was handed to me.
For me, it feels solemn and, all things considered, celebratory. And for many people that’s
exactly how Memorial Day feels.
But for widowed people, Memorial Day can carry something much heavier.
Especially if you or your spouse served.
Especially if military service shaped your family’s life.
Especially if this holiday was full of traditions, meaning, rituals, and memories that now feel
completely different.
And even if military service isn’t part of your story, Memorial Day can still hit hard.
Because holidays are mirrors.
They reflect what was, what should have been, and what now feels painfully absent.
Maybe this was always the weekend you opened the pool together. Or camped.
Or maybe you grilled every year.
Maybe there was a parade, a cemetery visit, a family gathering, or simply the comfort of knowing
exactly how the day would unfold because your person was physically present.
Now the traditions feel different.
Sometimes empty.
Sometimes too painful to repeat.
Sometimes painful not to repeat.
And because our society is not particularly grief-savvy, most people around you may not realize
this day feels heavy at all.
They see a holiday weekend.
You feel the weight of memory.
That disconnect can feel lonely.
People may not check in.
They may not understand why you’re quiet.
They may assume enough time has passed that holidays are “better now.”
But grief does not follow the calendar.
It shows up when it shows up.
And Memorial Day can absolutely be one of those times.
So today, I want to offer you both validation and a few practical tools.
First: let yourself tell the truth.
You do not need to force yourself to feel festive if you don’t.
You also do not need to feel guilty if parts of the weekend are enjoyable.
This is duality.
You can miss them deeply and still laugh at the barbecue.
You can feel grateful and heartbroken.
You can feel grief and still participate in life.
Both things can be true.
Second: make a plan and a backup plan.
Do not wait for the day to happen to you.
Ask yourself:
What would feel supportive this year?
Do I want quiet or company?
Do I want tradition or something completely different?
Do I want to attend that gathering, or would protecting my energy serve me better?
Remember: you do not have to do what you’ve always done.
You may choose tradition.
You may choose something entirely new.
Both are valid.
And because grief is an energy drain, I want you to do a battery check.
How much capacity do you actually have?
Not how much you think you should have.
Not how much other people expect.
How much energy is truly available?
Plan from there.
Not from guilt.
Not from obligation.
From honesty.
Third: invite support directly.
People often want to help, but they don’t know how.
Instead of waiting for someone to magically understand, consider being specific.
You might say:
“Memorial Day is a hard one for me. I’d love some company this weekend.”
Or:
“I may leave early if I’m feeling overwhelmed.”
Or even:
“I know this may not seem like a big grief day, but it is for me.”
You are allowed to tell the truth.
You are allowed to ask for what helps.
And finally, I want to remind you of this:
Love lives.
Honoring your spouse does not require suffering as proof.
Missing them does not mean you are doing grief wrong.
Creating moments of peace does not mean you are leaving them behind.
Love lives.
And love can look like remembering.
Love can look like rest.
Love can look like boundaries.
Love can look like letting this year be different.
Whatever Memorial Day holds for you this year, I want you to know this:
You are not behind.
You are not too much.
You are not grieving wrong.
You are learning.
And grieving is learning.
So be gentle with yourself.
Let this holiday be what it is.
Not what others think it should be.
Not what you think you should force it to be.
Just what it is.
And meet yourself there.
That is where healing begins.
If this episode was helpful, please share it with a widowed friend. And remember that I believe
in you, and I’m here for you. Take care.
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If you’ve found this podcast helpful, check out my newest book, Time Doesn’t Heal, Why High
Achieving Widowed People Feel Stuck, and How to Rebuild a Meaningful Life. It’s now available
in paperback and Kindle, plus there’s an accompanying journal to help you apply what you learn.
And, join the free course so I can help you even more. Links are in the show notes.
