Taps

Years ago, when I was in the seventh grade, my grandfather passed away.  I don't clearly remember the service in the funeral home, only to say that there were a lot of people there.  What I do remember clearly are specific parts of the graveside service.  I remember seeing the USAF Honor Guard, hearing the crispness of their 21 gun salute, and listening to the bugler playing Taps.

I am 34 now, almost 35, and to hear Taps played instantly brings emotion out.  Tears well in the eyes, and my heart beats just a little bit faster.

Today was a beautiful day.  The air was clear.  The sky was a perfect blue with only the slightest wisp of white cloud.  The sun warmed the chill of the morning.  It was the perfect Autumn day.

This afternoon, Taps filled the silence of the graveside once again.  Taps called Chris to rest, to sleep until the call comes to wake once again, just as it has many a man or woman that answers the call of service to their country or community.

The solemn notes flowed from the bugle, and through every one of us.  I was instantly reminded of the times I have heard the notes before, and just how often they are played.  No matter how often I hear them, the effect will be the same.  There will be pain, as there is a finality of those notes and phrases to me.  There will also be hope and relief, as I know that those for whom the notes are played are resting deservedly.

As much hope as the familiar notes provide, I hope that it will be some time before I hear them again.

I Can't Find the Title....

I'm not sure that this post fits in with the blog title; but I feel like writing, and I know this post will not fit in with my other blog.

I want to write, but am unsure of the words to put down.  I have felt this way since this morning when I heard the news about the passing of one of my high school classmates, Chris Doyle.

With the Class of '96 having been thrust into the "real world" over sixteen years ago, many lost touch.  It is primarily through social networking sites that I have rekindled, or simply kept up with, old relationships and friends.  I wasn't able to attend our 10 year reunion.  I could not get the time off work.  I knew that I would be able to make the time for our 15th or 20th reunion, and I knew that I would get to see everyone.  How mistaken I was.  And that was the very first thought that hit me like a brick to the face when I saw the news on facebook this morning while at work.

My knees went weak, and after the initial shock, I had to ask why?  Why did this happen?  I knew he had recently rekindled a relationship of his own, and brought in a new baby boy as the baby brother to his little girl.  It is plain to see in the shots of him and his family how much of a loving father he was, and a happy, devoted husband he was to his wife.  I have never met them, but my heart aches for them in the worst way.

I continued to ask myself why.  Why?  I think a lot of us that knew him are asking that, or have asked that question today.  I think we'll continue to ask it into the future.

With such a slap to the face, a rush of memories came along, too.  Playing basketball together in PE...  Sitting together in the back of the band room with Joe and Josh, cutting up, because, let's face it, that is what you do in middle school band.  Entering high school and walking in the door as freshmen, and walking out the door as seniors knowing that we have all the knowledge and tools necessary to take over the world.

We're in our mid-thirties now (really?  MID-thirties??), and I know that the last thing on my mind is looking at death's door.  One thing was made painfully obvious to me this morning.  It doesn't matter whether it is or not.  It is not up to us.

I know that I will not see Chris at the next reunion, and that saddens me.  It saddens me a lot.  What I will have to keep in mind is that we will see one another again.  I do not know when that time will be, only because I know that it is not up to me.

Almost here

Something hit me today as I was scrolling down my facebook news feed today.  The campaign season is nearly over, and just in time for the holiday season to come barreling in full steam ahead.  I'm not ready for that.  I don't know if the rest of you people are.  I know I'm not.  I haven't even started yet.  I don't know when I'm gonna start.  It's going to have to be soon.  I know that, but damn..

I always start the season off a little pessimistically, but that's me.  Eventually, I will warm up to it, start listening to the holiday music (NEVER before Thanksgiving), and get into the holiday spirit.  The weather is going to get cooler, the air crisper and the clothing layers heavier.  And that is just fine by me, although Bailey does not seem to be much of a fan.  I think he's starting to get a little soft.  Maybe a trip to the mountains is in order to toughen him back up.

But this I promise, if I hear Christmas music prior to Thanksgiving, the person playing said music will most definitely be getting the stink eye.