‘Snapshot of their memories:’ Gold Star widow reflects on Memorial Day

Memorial Day — the beginning of summer, campouts, barbeques and lazy days at the lake. That is what Memorial Day used to mean to me. On March 31, 2004, the day took on a completely different meaning, and now it and the days surrounding it are spent reflecting on the lives of those who died in the service of their country. My husband, 1st Lt. Doyle M. Hufstedler, was killed by an improvised explosive device in Iraq. He was 25. Four others died with him.

Nearly every Memorial Day, our daughter, Grace, and I visit Arlington National Cemetery in Washington, D.C., where we picnic at the mass grave where the remains of my husband Doyle and the four soldiers he perished with are laid to rest.

We make sure we bring all of Doyle’s favorites — Double Stuffed Oreos, Dr. Pepper, and an ice-cold Lone Star Beer (or two), of course. Doyle loved all things Texas. While we reminisce, we’re serenaded by the voices of Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings from one of our iPhones. Classic country and western tunes were the sounds that flooded the airwaves of Doyle’s green, 1993 Chevy Silverado pickup, which our daughter now proudly drives.

We met our senior year of college. He proposed to me in the end zone during halftime at a football game.