Outside of Israel, Yom Hazikaron is a forgotten day. Yom Haatzmaut is celebrated in many communities, Yom HaShoah in some, and even Yom Yerushalayim has its place. Yom Hazikaron, tragically, does not. But inside Israel, it is a day that looms larger than the rest, one that sears the meaning of country and peoplehood into our national consciousness. It is a day that goes beyond differences and divisions, because in the place where a Jewish soul stands – and rests – none of that exists. On Yom Hazikaron, it doesn’t matter where we come from, only what we’re fighting for. And that’s why, of all the commemorative days we have since returning to our land, Yom Hazikaron is the most important of them all.

When someone gives you a gift, you say thank you. The bigger the gift, the bigger the thanks. Bigness here is not measured by size, but by magnitude. Some gifts make you smile, others let you know you are loved. But then there are gifts that can’t be purchased, the ones that are created when a person who may not even know you gives you everything they have just so that you can hold on to everything you have. This is the gift that our soldiers and security forces have given us. And our thanks to them should be never-ending.

Nothing is more precious than life. We bring it into the world, nurture it from the first breath, and cherish it at every moment. And yet we sometimes choose to give it up. How can that be? Only because we realize that life is about service, and what’s worth serving if it isn’t bigger than we are? No one knows this better than our beloved soldiers. They put on uniforms individually, but they wear the responsibility of safety for an entire nation. Because it’s bigger than they are.

There is a unique form of grief that accompanies Yom Hazikaron, one that shows us that pride is sadder than loss. When you hear a parent talk about the loss of a child, your heart breaks. But when they talk about how proud they are of what their child died for, it bursts. On Yom Hazikaron, we get a taste of what it means to take the most valuable thing you will ever have and watch it transcend. And when something goes beyond what our hearts can contain, tears flow.

Yom Hazikaron is about what we’re willing to give in order to hold on to what we have. In Israel, family after family cries, grieves, holds each other, and deeply, deeply understands what we are fighting for. We don’t want to send our sons into battle, but if we must, let it be for the purpose of defending what we refuse to let go of: our home. On Yom Hazikaron we remember that our blood unites us all. As we stand by the graves, we are all one family. 

We don’t know why Hashem makes us suffer just so that we can live here in peace. Perhaps He wants us to gain perspective. Perhaps He wants us to remember what’s important. Perhaps He wants to witness true sacrifice and learn from it. But for some reason, there is a fee we all pay for being Jewish and for just wanting to come home. For wanting to build a family and see our grandchildren prosper in their homeland. We are destined to pay this fee. Many of us already have.

For those of us who have not served, the feeling on Yom Hazikaron is that we are small and unworthy. They sacrificed for us, and we haven’t done the same for them. What else can we do beyond feeling thanks? We must visit their families, hear their stories, and put aside how different we may look. This is what our soldiers have told us to do. If we are able to embrace one another, they will have won. They were brothers on the battlefield, and we must be brothers off of it.

Take some time to learn about a fallen soldier. Stare at their picture. Let their story seep into your bones. Carry their memory forward as they have carried you. It’s not too late to get to know a deceased soldier and tell their family that their child is a hero in your eyes. Make them part of your family, which is exactly how they viewed you when they fell.

Gratitude is a human value and Jewish trait. Giving thanks does not depend on what you wear on your head or where you daven. Our dear soldiers didn’t care about any of that. They saw more clearly than we do. But today, we can also see clearly. On this Day of Remembrance, we can learn to transcend it all and just be Jews together.