For the Fallen 2010 … We Will Remember You

THE LAST POST

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning.
We will remember them.

– From “For the Fallen” by Laurence Binyon

A MEMORY BOUQUET

At the end of each year, major media outlets run feature stories listing notables and celebrities that have passed away during the year; stories that recount highlights of the person’s life. This year’s list was long. Really long. And special. These people really were notable, but weren’t celebrities. They weren’t sports “heroes.” They weren’t movie stars.

They were  infinitely more.

THROUGH THE DARK RECESSES

Sometimes memories connect through space and time linked to your own remembrances of the person. Memories of what you were doing at a certain time in your life, at a certain place.

OF TIME

Special memories randomly emerge from the dark recesses of time. You feel heaviness, a sense of loss, not only for the “notable person” or “celebrity” that you probably never met, but also for yourself. For the loss of time.

That time.

Your time.

A time that will never be again.

THE LIST

Well, here’s my feature story.

My list.

It’s a little bit longer than the major media outlets would publish. Names of real people like Adam, Aracely, Buddy, Chad, Barbara, Dakota, Derek, Faith, Devon, Christopher, Garrett, Christian, Conrado, Javier, Joshua, Colton, Gwendolyn, Tramiane, James, Justin, Jose, Jonathan, Jorge, David, Timothy, Daniel, Raphael, Florence, Matthew, Pedro, Nelson, Stephen, Lance, Raul, Tyler, Willie, Stacy, Rosyln …

THE LOVED AND LOST

… and on … and on … and horribly on.

Fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, wives, husbands, cousins, nephews, nieces, all.

NOT BY ACCIDENT

They passed on not by accident, not by bodily deterioration brought on by the mean ravages of time, but because they had a special job.

A job that ended a too-brief sojourn on this blue-green magical wonder called earth.

A job they chose.

SO COSTLY A SACRIFICE

They were American soldiers.

A step ahead.

A step behind.

A look left, instead of right.

Right, instead of left.

Up instead of down.

Down instead of up.

A blink of the eye at the wrong time.

And … it was over.

WHAT IS LIFE?

It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.

It is the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.

– Crowfoot, Native American Blackfoot warrior and orator

The fleeting flash of a firefly in the night … gone.

But not.

THEIR EFFULGENT LIGHT …

… echoes eternally throughout the music of the spheres like heavenly bagpipes playing Amazing Grace … across the unfathomable unknowable on their way to The Last Post.

WHO WERE THESE FIREFLIES IN THE NIGHT?

Who were these shadows that ran across the grass riding a Sonata of Moonlight on an Ode to Joy – to living, giving and life?

WHO WERE THESE FIREFLIES IN THE NIGHT?

Who were these shadows that ran across the grass into the arms of an …

ANGEL

On the way to their …

LAST POST

Look.

BECAUSE WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN … WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THEM

LOOK

And if you hold the page down key all the way to the bottom, do you see what I see?