Like most of you, I’m sure, I’ve spent many of my 50-something years observing the Memorial Day holiday by standing along sidewalks at parades, attending solemn ceremonies or hosting family cookouts and the like.

Sometimes, the decision to show up and pay tribute was out of a sense of doing the right thing; other times, the primary motivation was as a parent watching his then-young daughters march as Brownies, Girl Scouts, youth soccer team members or with their classmates in the high school band.

Once there, though, the purpose was always the same: to honor the memories of those brave individuals who died fighting for their country. In my lifetime, that primarily has meant the two World Wars, Korea, Vietnam and now Iraq and Afghanistan.

But in the past few weeks, I’ve found myself thinking about war, patriotic duty and sacrifice in a different way – courtesy of the U.S. Department of Defense e-mail distribution list.

Now, to be honest, I first registered for this free service sometime back in 2003 – at a time when I was serving as managing editor for the newsroom – shortly after the U.S. invasion of Iraq.

The reason? As morbid as it might sound, to make sure we received some type of official notification if one of our local servicemen or women were killed in combat.

Local residents killed in wartime are big news for community newspapers; not so we can sensationalize the person’s death to sell papers, but so we can ensure the community has an opportunity to share in the grieving and celebration of that person’s life.

So, every few days – there had been 16 such news releases distributed this month through Friday – an e-mail alert flashes in the bottom right-hand corner of my computer screen with the stark words: “DoD identifies (fill-in-the-service) casualty.” Or, in some cases, “casualties.”

With no offense intended for the public affairs personnel who have the displeasure of writing these releases, they all follow a simple, cookie-cutter pattern:

“The Department of Defense announced today the death of a (soldier, airman, etc.) who was supporting Operation Enduring Freedom.

“(Rank, name, age, hometown) died (date) near (location) of wounds suffered from (specific circumstances). (He or she) was assigned to the (specific unit).

“For further information related to this release, please contact the (branch) Public Affairs office at (phone number).”

Initially, as mentioned earlier, signing up for these releases was purely a defense mechanism. Ordinarily, newspapers hear about war deaths in the community through word of mouth a day or two before the official press release is distributed, but I’ve learned over the years in this business that it never hurts to have a backup plan.

As such, my eyes became trained to immediately lock in on that part of the release that mentioned the individual’s hometown. If the person didn’t have ties around here or somewhere in New England, I quickly resumed what I had been doing prior to the interruption.

Lately, however, I’ve found myself dwelling a little bit longer on these three-paragraph news releases. How old – or young – was that person? Was it someone’s son or daughter? How did that person die? In combat? Accidentally?

As such, I’ve learned this month about people like 1st Lt. Roslyn L. Schulte, 25, of St. Louis, who died Wednesday near Kabul, Afghanistan, of wounds suffered from an improvised explosive device.

Then there was Spc. David A. Schaefer Jr., 27, of Belleville, Ill., who died May 16 in Baghdad, Iraq, after an improvised explosive device detonated near his unit.

And Staff Sgt. Esau I. De la Pena-Hernandez, 25, of La Puente, Calif., and Sgt. Carlie M. Lee III, 23, of Birmingham, Ala., who died May 15 at Forward Operating Base Shank, Afghanistan, after their patrol was attacked by enemy forces using small-arms fire in Chak.

Maybe it’s just a function of getting older. Maybe the tough exterior that I’ve developed over the years from dealing with so much tragedy in this business is starting to crack. Or maybe it’s just the father in me instinctively reacting to the deaths of men and women so close to my daughters’ ages.

Whatever the reason, as we prepare to observe another Memorial Day on Monday, these e-mail alerts have given me a new appreciation for the sacrifices that are being made each and every day by people I’ll never have the pleasure to know.

And along with that the silly hope that the next one will be the last.

Nick Pappas is editorial page editor at The Telegraph. He can be reached at 594-6505 or npappas@nashuatelegraph.com. You can also follow him on Twitter at TelegraphEdit.