I'm not much of a war movie guy, but Memorial Day is no ordinary war story. It's somewhere between a hoo-rah war movie and an apologetic war movie, but neither one should be counted out here: it seems to be a reasonable recounting of the highs and lows of veterans everywhere. In this tale of two men separated by two generations who both gave their lives to the military, we're treated to a tale that should inspire and move us, regardless of our military affiliation or beliefs about conflict past or present. It's an ode to veterans everywhere, and the stories they'd share if we would listen.

Bud (John Cromwell) is suffering from memory loss, but his discovered war chest, holding mementos of his time in World War II, opens up dialogue with his thirteen-year-old grandson. His grandson grows up to be Jonathan Bennett's Sergeant, Kyle Vogel, who recounts the story of his grandfather's locker and the stories that he shared. Now, Vogel has decisions to make of his own, as he recounts the story to Lt. Kelly Tripp (Emily Fradenburgh).

In an interesting spin, Cromwell's own son (James Cromwell) plays Bud in World War II, as we see the episodes of Bud's life interspersed with the episodes of the modern war played out in Kyle's. Bud's episodes are harsh and colorless, Kyle's are tan, beige, and bright, and their time shared together in the 1993 Memorial Day storytelling is soft, and bright. It's a motif that conveys in itself the beauty of their stories, and the way that they might be different but are still interconnected.

We all make choices, and we have to live with them. Bud attempts to teach Kyle in his own way to share their story, and to make the stories count for something. The difference between the two men, one at thirteen and one as an older man, comes together in the middle, where one learns to ask and then listen, and the other learns to listen and then share. Our stories matter, and it matters to those who hear them.

The truth is that we're part of a bigger story, God's story, and we're called to share it with others. Holding it back, as Bud figures it out, would be a crime, and so many people want to hear it. Are you ready to share your story—even sing it?