The Mystic Chords of May

April is filled with days of motion and contradiction. But May is different; it arrives with a distinct sense of steadiness.

The air is softer and gently warmer. Tree branches disappear as leaves fill in. Daylight lasts a little longer at the end of the day. And, after the long grayness of the winter, the world seems alive again.

May holds something else – less visible, but no less present. In many ways, it is the month of memory, rooted in two distinct pillars.

Mother’s Day comes first. Its memories are inward, intimate, and personal, a reminder of the quiet love that remains tangible long after a life has ended.

Memorial Day closes out the month with memories that extend outward: collective, national, and shared. This remembrance recalls lives lived and given and of ideals that live today because of that sacrifice.

One day is represented by private memories spoken softly across kitchen tables. The other is spoken publicly, across generations. But, even so, they are more similar than different. Both ask us to remember.

Abraham Lincoln described memory as “the mystic chords” that stretch from the past to the present, binding us to each other and to those who came before us. In May, those mystical chords feel closer. We relive them in the stories we tell and feel them in the names we speak again. Crucially, we see them in the traditions we return to.

But memory left on its own can drift. It can become quiet. Private. Unmoored. More than any other month, May reminds us of this dynamic. It shifts our memories into public spaces, shared within families and across communities alike. This is the intention of remembrance. It’s more than something we hold alone, but something we collectively share.

Over Memorial Day weekend, that idea takes visible form through the Field of Memories. Thousands of flags placed side by side. Each represents a story, a life, a sacrifice.  What could be forgotten becomes unmistakable. It is memory, given not only presence, but renewed stature, and in that moment, something happens. We are reminded that memory is not only about looking back. It is also about ensuring that what matters continues to be seen, known, and honored.

The mystic chords of May give us the opportunity not only to remember, but to ensure that remembrance endures.