By Jacob Molyneux, senior editor/blog editor

AJN wishes all of our U.S. readers (and everyone else too) a safe, restful Memorial Day weekend, whether you are driving to the shore or the hills, staying put and having a barbeque, finishing a dissertation, running a 10K, working all weekend in the emergency department, gardening, or binge-watching episodes of a TV show on Netflix (you know who you are).

And lest we forget: a heartfelt thanks to all nurses, present and past, who are or have served in the military in any capacity, in some cases losing their lives as they tried to save other lives and heal the wounded. And to their families.

I’m going to leave off the photo of the military cemetery this year, those sobering stark white rows on manicured lawns. For some reason, it seems better this time to look inside and find one’s own image for the weekend that memorializes the dead even as the fluttering flags and the soft new leaves on the trees herald a kind of start to the fleeting summer season. I still remember the parade that started downtown in our small New England town and passed our house almost a mile later, the rolling sound of the drums getting nearer for a long time, the old guys in various uniforms passing by. Maybe there were nurses too in uniform.

We’d join the kids circling behind on bicycles as the parade went along the final stretch to the cemetery across from my grandparents’ house, turned slowly in, and marched on until it came to a stop near the center. A hush would fall then in the cemetery with its tall trees. There were no cell phone cameras. There was nothing to break the quiet. No one was sending or getting texts. No one had earbuds in. Even as kids we knew it meant something, that silence, and we knew enough to respect it, no matter what we believed or where we came from or were headed.