Memorial Day.....In Memorium

(My personal dedication: For those who lost their lives fighting for our Country so that we can enjoy the freedoms that we have today. Freedom which we often take advantage of and the same freedom that others are constantly trying to take away from us. For the sacrifice of the Service Men and Women currently serving our country and the families that they have left behind. For those children who lost a parent or a parent who lost a child. For that friend and loved one we grieve and mourn and the stories we tell so that we will never forget.)


My first memory when I became aware of death was when I was about 10 years old. My Sunday School teacher and wife of our Home Teacher, passed away. She left behind 3 children and a small three-legged dog. It makes me ponder my own mortality since she was about my age when she died. I remember her husband took her death very hard. I don't think I saw him at church much after that experience.

The summer after my Sophomore year of High School, my biology lab partner drowned in a swimming pool. The beginning of my Senior year, my friend who rode the bus with me to school was sadly run over by that same bus and killed. I remember getting on the bus the next day and subconsciously listened for the buzzing sound of music coming from his headphones. But it was quiet. Eerily quiet.

When I was in my twenties, I was at a friend's house borrowing his computer to type up a lesson for the next Sunday. He and a couple of his roommates left to go get something to eat. A few minutes after they left, I heard the front door open again. I yelled out something like, "Forget something?" But no one answered. I said, "Hello? Who's there?" Still no answer. A couple of minutes later the front door shut again. I got up and looked to see who it was but they were gone. The next morning on the radio, I heard about a young man who was found dead in the bleachers of the College stadium with a self-inflicted gunshot wound. My friend called me and asked if I had heard about it. He then told me that it was his roommate and that he used his other roommate's gun. He was the one who came in after the others had left. That's why he didn't answer me. Looking back, I often wonder if maybe I had intervened, he wouldn't have taken his life that night. But realistically, I'm grateful for the prompting to stay in the room I was in and that I didn't get up to see who it was sooner than I did. It scares me to think what state of mind he must have been in and the possibility that my life could have very easily been in danger as well.

I lost another friend who died so that her baby girl could live. She died of pre-eclampsia when she was 7 months pregnant. I was about 4 months pregnant myself with my first and remember feeling so sad for her family and for her daughter who would never know her mother in this life.

I lost an Aunt who I hope will now be receptive to the eternal blessings she deserves.

I lost a Grandma. She wasn't just any Grandma. She was the only Grandma I really ever knew. And she was the last of my Grandparents. She was supposed to live longer than she did. Atleast I thought she was supposed to. She was supposed to see my kids grow up and have kids. I remember the night I got the phone call that she had passed. I was in my bathroom getting ready for bed when all of the sudden, I felt a cold, rush of a breeze pass behind me. It was so noticable that at first I thought it was the air conditioner turning on through the vent. But I looked up and noticed it wasn't even on. Then instantly I thought of Grandma. Even though I couldn't see her, I could feel her standing next to me. I smiled, looked in the mirror and said, "Thank you! I love you. It's ok. You can go." And I was at peace.

My husband lost his first wife and friend of mine over 10 years ago. We went to the cemetary yesterday to leave flowers for her for Memorial day and also because it was her birthday. We've explained to our children who she is and they call her "Auntie Lynette". As we were driving out of the cemetary, we could hear Lauren whispering in the back seat. She told us that she just said a prayer to Heavenly Father to keep Auntie Lynette young.

Then she whispered, "I miss you Auntie Lynette".

How thin the veil is. And how powerful and humbling is the faith of a child.

-"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself" Joseph Campbell