Death

These are not my words, but words that spoke to me some years ago. I thought I would share them with you today.

Death. 

The thought of dying consumed me when I was younger. Not in some misguided goth vampire oh-isn't-death-cool kind of way. No, death scared the stuffing out of me. 

In many ways death paralyzed me. I couldn't think straight knowing I would die. This was starting when I was about 10 years old. Imagine that. I was going to worry for the next 65 years about dying. What kind of life would that be? It's like I was on the dance floor with everyone else, but rather than moving to the beat and enjoying the moment, I stood there perfectly still, consumed with the idea that the music would evetually stop. It was like I was already dead. 

There is a rational side of me that saw the irony. I was wasting away while living, because I feared wasting away and dying. As if worrying about the inevitable could somehow change the outcome. 

It reminds me of airplanes. I hate flying. So you know what I do? I try to sit lightly in my seat. I try to not press down too hard for fear the extra weight will be too much and the plane will plummet to the ground. How ridiculous. You should see me walk down the aisle of the plane to the bathroom. I am extra careful not to press my feet too hard into the carpet. So I do this sort of tiptoe thing. LOL! You want a laugh? If you watch closely on a plane, other people do it too. 

I think we are all the same. Maybe we are not willing to admit it, but we are. We are all the same. Our desire for sex. Our insecurity about how others view us. Concerns over our looks. Guilt over being selfish. On and on. All people. All cultures. We are all the same. With one strong common denominator being this overpowering fear of death. 

But young people, listen up, let me lighten your load a little. 

You know what happens? Death seems all consuming when you are a teen and you can't fathom how you will cope with the anxiety of impending doom when you turn 50 or 60 or 70. OMG right? How can an old person possibly ever smile knowing the grim reaper is around the corner?? But you know what? Here is the one thing I have learned in life: The fear of death goes away. 

As you get older, as you wander through your own trials of life, as you embarrass yourself at party, or screw up something at work, or feel guilty about yelling at your children - interestingly the fear of death subsides. It's as if your brain reconciles. Your brain says hey, you know what, you aren't perfect. You've messed up plenty. It is not a total loss if death puts you out of your misery. It would ease your guilt and suffering. 

It is like the difference between getting a dent in a new car versus an old car. With the new car, you get a dent and you flip out. But a shopping cart bumps into your old car and you don't even think twice. In fact, it makes me chuckle when I get a dent in the old car. I feel I won somehow. I feel it was a wasted effort on karma's part. Because I don't care anymore. Go ahead, dent my old car all you want. It doesn't bother me. It's old. Ha ha. 

And that's what happens with death. Take my life away when I am young and I am devastated. Take my life away when I am old and in a wheelchair and on medication, with a lifetime of troubling thoughts regurgitating in head about how I once puked in a bar and how I let down a friend by not showing up at his birthday party and how I ran over my neighbor's dog because I was too lazy to check before backing up. Fill your head with these dents over 50 years, and the thought that you only have 20 years left doesn't seem so bad anymore. 

The fear of death is self correcting. 

That's how old people cope. That's why sometimes we even smile. 

So live your life young people. Dance to the music. Don't fret about what's to come. It will be okay. Really, it will be okay. 

----71, male

The bond of brothers

 

The life of a United States Marine is a perplexing one to many who have never served with a Marine. Most will never understand the bond of Marines without actually experiencing it first hand. And although I am simply a spectator of the life of a Marine, I have some understanding of the strings that tie them together. I only wish I had that type of bond in my own life.

The statement 'once a Marine, always a Marine' is in fact the truth. People come and go in your life. Some are meant to be there by your side for life and some are just passing by. It's hard to judge whether someone will forever be in your life or eventually turn into a distant memory at the onset of a friendship. The connection of two Marine's is for life. Their dedication to God and country strengthens their dedication to the Corps. It doesn't matter how much time has come between hellos, the brotherhood of the Marine Corps will weigh heavy on the heart and keep that connection alive.

Recently my husband was contacted by an old friends sister. The sister and my husband are Facebook friends and although his old friend never joined the league of social networkers; the sister was there to speak for her brother in his time of need.

My husband has known Scott since middle/high school. Scott is a few years younger than my husband, but his out going personality won over both under and upper classmen giving him a wide social circle. A few years after high school both Scott and my husband joined the Marine Corps. Scott was first to enlist, but at this point the two had lost touch and my husband, Chad, was unaware of his old friends future plans. Ironically Scott joined up with another fellow that I went to high school with me before I knew Chad.

Soon Chad enlisted and was off to boot camp. Both Scott and his friend John found out Chad was at boot camp and tracked him down. The two offered some semblance of home to Chad and in some aspect to themselves as well. The personal connection in a time of such uncertainty while joining the armed forces made the time away from family and friends a little easier. Those guys have no idea what those few moments, those simple hellos did for Chad during that time in his life.

I'm quite certain not one of those guys were aware this was the beginning of a brotherhood, a bond that  can't and won't be broken despite time or distance.

And here we are today, Chad is in his car driving north to visit Scott, his fellow Marine, his former classmate. The unfortunate news Scotts' sister shared with my husband recently is that Scott is dying of cancer. His days are soon going to end.

For the past couple of weeks Chad has contemplated going up to see Scott in Georgia. He worried he would be in the way of a family trying to absorb as much time as possible left in this young man's life. But that Marine Corps bond, a sense of duty to a fellow Marine has persuaded him to take time out of his own busy life and go see his friend. And his time with Scott this weekend sharing old high school memories, trading Marine Corps stories may be short, but only proves the dedication to the end of a brother.

I really can't completely express my pride in my husband at this very moment. While many would say the drive is too far, the relationship is too distant, my husband looked within himself to give a couple of days of his life to this man before it's too late. Even after driving for many hours only to sit with Scott for just a short time, my husband is giving his time to Scott in honor of the Marine Corps brotherhood. The weekend lost, the cost of gas and the unfathomable heartache that will result from this trip is minor compared to what Scott is going through. It's that connection that those guys back in boot camp never knew would occur that makes this type of dedication possible.

This act is the essence of what makes up the brotherhood of a Marine.

If you are reading this and you are a Marine, I empower you to reach out to your brothers. Don't ever let that connection fade.