Those who’ve passed before us haven’t really left

Those who’ve passed before us haven’t really left.

By R.J. Godlewski

Earlier this week, I had caught a snippet of an interview with former first lady Nancy Reagan in which she admitted that she missed her husband, former President Ronald Reagan, more today, nearly three years after his death, than when he had first passed away. I can fully understand her feelings; I lost Sara nearly three and a half years ago and feel her presence nearer today than ever before. I know that I will probably never have the honor and privilege of meeting Mrs. Reagan, but I’m quite certain that she would agree with me that those closest to us who have passed away have not really left our presence.

Some may argue that it’s all a matter of shock; when we lose a loved one, our emotions wane and only after time are we able to reflect upon their absence with a clear mind. I wonder. True, I was geared more towards the future then – immediately after Sara’s death – than I am today. It could be that I’ve had time to reflect upon my ‘missing half’ and with less stress, I am able to feel the subtle sadness that comes from realizing that, as the survivor, I must proceed on with my life. All things considered, however, I don’t think that life is such an either/or situation. I believe – firmly believe – that I feel Sara’s presence more powerfully today because she is more powerfully present. She is still within my life and still guiding me towards my own inevitable conclusion.

These thoughts are very much appropriate today as we begin a long weekend to observe Memorial Day – a day in which we honor those brave servicemen and servicewomen who gave their lives so that we may live. This would be a rather significant day of reflection for any year, but one more poignant for we are, once again, a nation at war. Death is never an easy subject to discuss, but I wish – for the benefit of those who’ve lost loved ones in war – instead to discuss life; their life.

Death is such a conflicting emotion that we almost always consider it to be a conclusion instead of a beginning. We feel our ‘loss’ more than their continual ‘presence’. Pushed further, post-death events such as wakes and funerals are meant mostly to make the living feel at ease than to celebrate the lives of those who’ve passed. This confliction is more pronounced whenever the deceased is a victim of war – for they are generally younger than usual and therefore their lives are termed as “cut short”. Yet, if we are only able to reflect upon the reason for their deaths, we might just be struck by the magnificence of their lives.

Americans are a characteristically peaceful people, almost to the point of being exclusively isolationist in nature. We detest wars, avoid them as much as humanly possible, and prefer that they were ended quickly once begun. We behave this way because we’ve become a people accustomed to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”. Still, there’s a remarkable breed of others who, for whatever privilege granted to them from God, have passed from our physical neighborhood through actions created by war. These simple “casualties of war” are anything but simple in history.

Each death in war serves to pay our rent on life and the freedom that ensures it. We may, from time to time, equate their sacrifice as “unfortunate” or “tragic” but it would be far more unfortunate and tragic should our nation never have had such brave and distinguishing souls. The death of their mere bodies may be characterized as a “waste” but the spirit within their souls transcends anything that we mortals may consider. Inasmuch as we work tirelessly at our jobs because we know that to do otherwise would forfeit our lives and that of our families, those who serve us proudly in uniform understand that they exist for a reason. They accept the tremendously long hours, brutal and harsh conditions, and the uncertain future because they know that it has to be done and they’d rather do it than have others suffer through the indignities. They serve simply so that we don’t have to.

When death does come to those serving – whether in war or during ‘peacetime’ – we know that our freedoms were made a little more secure. With each death, our adversaries realize that Americans aren’t afraid to die for what we believe in. More importantly, however, our friends and allies also know that we are willing to die for what they believe in too. American soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen, coastguardsmen, and reservists have died for every country that occupies this planet. Whenever a nation becomes a victim, the world’s eyes turn towards America for it is the American people who generally come to the aid of the oppressed.

When God Himself died upon the cross, He didn’t die simply to lead us into the light. He shattered the door between life and death so that we could not escape from seeing the light. So, too, is the example set by our fallen troops. When they die, they do not merely send a message to us back home that war is a waste. They herald the message loudly that freedom is not free and like the friends that they are, they’ve picked up the tab for the next round of existence. We miss them because we feel ‘obligated’ to return the favor – a significant feeling of guilt that they had to be the ones to lead us by example.

So as we take time off from our duties this Memorial Day weekend, take a few moments to reflect upon your ability to drive from state to state without being frisked or bribing local officials. Or perhaps consider the benefits of your airplane landing safely at a secure airport. Maybe even think of the baseball game that you are attending and marvel at the twenty or thirty or even forty thousand fans that surround you in adoration. If you concentrate deeply enough, I am quite positive that you will begin to see the images and faces of millions of ‘friends’ – both known and unknown -- from the past two hundred and thirty years who’ve given their lives to ensure that you have an honest chance of actually enjoying your weekend. They’ve picked up the check and allowed you to enjoy the ‘feast’ at will.

While you are reflecting upon the price already paid, whenever you come across a person in uniform, kindly extend your hand in gratitude, for you just never know who’ll have to pick up the tab the next time that the bill comes around to our table. Enjoy your freedoms, but always – always – know that we’re here on lease, not ownership. Someone has to keep making the payments.