Every Memorial Day I walk with my kids to the Avenue of the Flags at Santa Rosa Memorial Park to remember those we’ve lost and to honor Gold Star families. For as long as they will listen and walk with me, I’ll tell my kids about my childhood friends Patrick and Jesse, who died in the Iraq War.

I think about Patrick O’Day and Jesse Williams most days but especially on Memorial Day. Growing up in Santa Rosa I thought losses of war only occurred in World War II and Vietnam — surreal stories from my grandparents’ service in the Pacific.

Young people might know movies and video games that reference history, but unless someone has lost a friend or family member in war, it can seem like something that only happened to other generations a long time ago.

I try to teach my kids that there are invisible wounds, losses of war and sacrifice all around us, and it is important to listen and remember.

Veterans have carried these experiences and losses for years and deserve our ongoing focus and support.

Patrick and Jesse and I grew up together, getting into our share of trouble in high school and playing hard together on the soccer field and as captains of the Rosa rugby team.

I saw Patrick at A’Roma Roasters in Railroad Square the summer before he deployed. We hugged and talked about our lives after high school. A few months later, in the first days of the Iraq War in 2003, Lance Cpl. Patrick O’Day died in service when his tank fell from a bridge into the Euphrates River. He and three fellow Marines were trapped as the tank landed upside-down in the river.

I think about them all the time.

I also think about Patrick’s wife, his high school sweetheart, and the infant daughter he never had the chance to meet. As a father and husband, I cannot imagine that knock on the door and the immense sadness and grief that followed.

Patrick and his family were immigrants. He was born in Scotland, and he was granted U.S. citizenship a few months after his death in combat. Patrick was always soft-spoken and had a great sense of humor, and I’ll never forget his dad, Tim, trying to herd and coach us crazy kids with his thick accent on the soccer field.

I remember jumping on a trampoline with Patrick and his brothers across their fence from Franklin Park. We would pop back and forth from the field to the trampoline. Franklin Park was also where we won our first rugby championship, and Santa Rosa Memorial Park is across the road. I now live with my family just a few blocks away from Patrick’s old house and Franklin Park.

Staff Sgt. Jesse Williams played rugby at Franklin Park with us. His wild laugh and smile were infectious beyond description. No one who knew Jesse could forget his smile or the volume of his laugh. It was an honor to be a party to his joy and athleticism and enthusiasm in everything he did.

Jesse was killed by a sniper in Iraq in 2007. I saw him shortly before his second deployment, and we joked about me being an “anti-war hippie” from UC Berkeley while he was a diehard Army officer. We also talked about our lives and families. Jesse had a wife and infant daughter as well.

When I asked why he was going back to Iraq, he said that it wasn’t a choice; he couldn’t stay here knowing his unit, the men and women he was sworn to protect, were back in combat. There was a deep truth to this. When Jesse returned to Iraq, he saved lives by pulling fellow soldiers from a burning vehicle without hesitation, earning a Bronze Star.

I think about Jesse all the time, and when I take my 4-year-old son to the Sonoma County Children’s Museum, there’s a little corner upstairs dedicated to Jesse from his dad, Herb. It’s the section with the electric trains and buttons. I encourage everyone to think about Jesse and his family at that little exhibit in the children’s museum.

I also remember a playoff rugby game at Franklin Park when Jesse cut his leg badly on a tackle and asked me to drive him to the emergency room. I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift yet, but I learned pretty quickly as he laughed and howled in pain every time I popped the clutch and stalled his Honda CRX on the way up the hill to the old Sutter Hospital.

I tell my kids stories about my friends often, but especially on Memorial Day. For me, it’s remembering and hearing them every time we play at Franklin Park, every time we toss the rugby ball around.

I want to remind my kids that this isn’t ancient history. The unimaginable losses and sacrifices are with us every day — with the veterans who carry memories of fallen brothers and sisters and with the Gold Star families — families who have lost loved ones in service to the country — living in our community.

The young daughters that Patrick and Jesse left behind are adults now and had to grow up without their fathers. The seriousness and gravity of this is something we should all talk about, honor and remember.

On this Memorial Day, and every Memorial Day, I encourage everyone, civilians and veterans alike, to go to a ceremony at one of Sonoma County’s memorial parks and listen to the stories of veterans, show respect to Gold Star families and help make sure that Patrick O’Day and Jesse Williams and all who’ve died in service are never forgotten.

Chris Grabill is a resident of Santa Rosa.