I Went To A Funeral Yesterday.

Yesterday I went to a funeral of an American soldier who died in Afghanistan.  He was 47 years old.  He had enlisted out of high school, and then again felt the calling after 9/11 when he re-entered the Army.  He had 15 days left, and then he was out.  He was not going to re-up again.  He got married last November.

I didn't know him.  I never met him before in my life, or even had a conversation with him.

But I know his friends.  I know his ex-wife of 20 years and I know his two boys.  I know the people he hung with in high school, some of them very, very well.  I have heard stories of the antics, everyone laughing at the stuff we all get into as teens.  I know his boys, two young men in their 20's, who tried so hard to be strong as they laid their father to rest yesterday.

There were about 1000 people at the funeral.  The Freedom Riders were there and he was buried with full military honors.  Closed coffin, his tags hanging off one end.  And people wept. 

It was one of the saddest things I have ever witnessed in my life.  So sad to have to put him to rest, leaving behind so many many people who knew and loved him.  So sad to see the flags flying in the wind and the soldiers standing at attention next to his coffin.  So sad to see his new wife, who will now never get to live with him full time.  Who's plans and dreams have turned to dust.  So sad to see his little granddaughter, two years old, who will never know him.  To see all his friends there with tears running down their faces even as they laughed and told the same stories again of their younger years.  To see his ex-wife of 20 years, still very close friends, falling apart and holding up.

The funeral procession was long and the ride to the National Cemetary something I will never forget as it was far and along interstates where the police tried to control traffic and were very much challenged.  The hour ride took two instead, but there were people along the road, standing out of their vehicles, hand or hat over heart as we passed.  It was beautiful and uplifting and heart wrenching at the same time to see them there.

The ceremony at the National Cemetary, the folding and presenting of the flag(s), the 21 gun salute and the playing of "taps" was touching and brought a fresh round of tears to everyone's eyes.  Then we walked down to see him buried amoungst the too many white headstones that marked the men and women who died serving our country.  Serving us.  Standing tall by choice to honor us with their presence, sometimes with their very lives.  So sad.

Those of you who know me know I am a peaceful sort of person.  I don't understand why we are there, but I know there are a lot of things I don't understand.  I am not politically "in the know", nor do I present myself to be.  I would rather see a world where we all realize we are the same, brothers and sisters, living with compassion and good will towards others.  I don't know if this is realistic, but I try to make it my reality every day.  Do no harm to others.  Yet there are those who are out there, fighting and standing up so that I can enjoy the freedom of my opinion, to write about it here or anywhere else I choose.  They are here by choice, so I can have a choice.

I want to say "Thank You" to each and every one of them.  I hugged them and told everyone I could yesterday and every day, and it is so sad to me that I never got the chance to hug and thank him personally, the soldier we laid to rest yesterday.