I spend the week leading up to Memorial Day reading books with my children about the men and women who have fallen in service to our country. We read several books a night so that our family is primed for a deeper understanding of the holiday when we celebrate the meaning of selfless sacrifice. Some of our favorite books give an idea of the scope and breadth of losses experienced during specific military conflicts. Others, such as Patricia Polacco’s Pink and Say, focus on the details of the life of a single hero.

Pink and Say tells of Sheldon “Say” Curtis, a young Union flag-bearer from the 24th Ohio Infantry Regiment who is delirious with injury when he is discovered by Pinkus “Pink’” Aylee, a former slave separated from his unit, the 48th U.S. Colored Infantry Regiment. The young men become friends as Aylee helps Curtis reach the slave quarters where his mother, Moe Moe Bay, stayed after their master’s home was burned to the ground. Soon after Aylee and his mother rehabilitate Curtis from his injury, marauders shoot and kill Moe Moe Bay. Aylee and Curtis set out to find their units but are captured by Confederate soldiers who send them to Andersonville, the Confederate prison where almost a third of around 45,000 prisoners died from exposure, starvation, poor sanitation, and disease.

Polacco reports that Curtis weighed 78 pounds when he was released from Andersonville. She writes that Aylee never saw freedom and was likely hanged shortly after arriving at the prison.

How, then, did Aylee’s story survive? Because Curtis went on to have seven children. He told Aylee’s story to his daughter, Rosa, who shared it with her daughter, Estella, who passed it on to her son, William, who told it to his daughter, Patricia Polacco. Aylee’s story remains alive because of an oral history passed from parent to child in an unbroken chain.

Between tie-dying T-shirts, watching ducks at the park, and grilling burgers, I plan to talk with my children about Aylee and the message of our many readings: that sadness and loss always accompany even a righteous war. I also want to introduce them to two heroes who have affected their loved ones’ lives.

Marine Corps scout sniper Sgt. Matt Abbate was known for doing whatever was required to protect the men at his left and right when he died in battle in Afghanistan’s Sangin district on Dec. 2, 2010. I want my children to know that his spirit inspired Patrol Base Abbate , an incredible nonprofit group that has touched some of my closest veteran friends through its efforts to build a community that combats rising veteran suicide rates.

John “Yogi” Graham was an F-14 radar intercept officer who died in a training accident after his jet experienced an engine failure on takeoff. Graham’s death saved the lives of other aviators, including my father. I want my children to know that their grandfather experienced the same engine failure only days after the Navy released a life-saving fix to the problem Graham’s death identified. I want them to know that Graham loved dancing to The Police’s Walking on the Moon.

Increasingly it seems that Memorial Day is simply a starter gun for summertime shenanigans, a long weekend for deep-deep discounts and alcohol-soaked red, white, and blue-themed picnics. If we fail to take aside time to address the depth of the day and share its meaning with our children, we lose a chance to express gratitude for the sacrifices that make our levity possible. More concerningly, we lose a vital opportunity to keep the chain of memory alive for those whose deeds on Earth stopped with a final sacrifice made for our futures.

Beth Bailey ( @BWBailey85 ) is a freelance contributor to Fox News Digital and the co-host of The Afghanistan Project, which takes a deep dive into the tragedy wrought in the wake of the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan.