Surviving father: Why I ruck at the cemetery

Editor’s note: Sharing of non-VA information does not constitute an endorsement of products or services by the Department of Veterans Affairs. Veterans should always verify information with the organization offering the program.

The Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors (TAPS) is a national nonprofit that walks alongside anyone grieving the death of a military or Veteran loved one. Founded by survivor Bonnie Carroll, TAPS provides a community for military survivors, offering emotional support, resources and peer mentoring. Through TAPS, surviving families, friends and battle buddies find a community that understands the unique layers of military-connected loss and a place where they can connect with others who share their experience.

Since 1994, TAPS has provided compassionate care and comprehensive resources at no cost to surviving families. Support includes peer-based emotional support, connections with grief and trauma resources, grief seminars and retreats for adults, Good Grief Camps for children and teens, casework assistance, connections to community-based care, online and in-person support groups, and the 24/7 National Military Survivor Helpline. If you know someone grieving the loss of a military loved one—or if you, yourself, have lost a military or Veteran loved one, including a friend or battle buddy—TAPS is always available 24/7 at 800-959-TAPS or via taps.org.

Finding community and meaning after my son’s death

Written from the perspective of Gregory T. Jacobs, surviving father of U.S. Army SPC David Jacobs

When my son David died, he was an active duty specialist in the Army. During my grief journey, I found TAPS and discovered a community of bereaved families who understood the complexities of my military connected grief in a way no one else could. They understood that pride, gratitude and heartbreak can exist together. They understood my motivation to ruck every day in David’s memory.

Hoisting my pack onto my back, I feel every bit of the 42 pounds inside. The seams hold together, resilient against the strain. Like the day before, I say hello to my son, David, as I begin my 3-mile ruck at the cemetery where he is buried. He doesn’t visibly return the gesture, but he is there with me.

My daily cemetery ruck routine didn’t happen overnight. Nearly four years after David was killed in an auto accident in December 2020, I heard about rucking—walking with weight on your back—on a podcast. Through grief and slow, steady progress, it became my self-care: one meaningful way I honor and connect with David, and a way to bring mental and physical challenge, purpose and routine to my visits with him. I find the cemetery serene. There is little traffic, no distractions and no shortage of inspiration or silence—an ideal place for reflection, clarity, physical challenge and connection: to my son, to myself and to the road ahead.

For people like me who have lost a military loved one, cemeteries are more than resting places. They are sacred spaces where the bonds with our loved ones live on. They offer a sense of pride and peace amid grief. David’s name is forever etched in stone, just like the names of brave men and women buried in the 157 cemeteries within VA’s National Cemetery Administration. That permanence matters to survivors. It’s comforting knowing our loved ones’ names will be read and spoken alongside generations of heroes, knowing they are honored and cared for with dignity long after we are gone, too.

Sometimes I struggle with the heavy burden of losing David. But each cemetery ruck reminds me that, though David’s pack rests on my shoulders, I don’t carry the weight of his death alone. I draw strength from my TAPS community and from the generations of heroes that surround me as I ruck in his name.