Someone once said that everybody would remember where they were on November 22, 1963; the day that John F Kennedy died. I was seven years old in 1963 and although I don’t remember where I was, I do remember sitting at home and watching the account that they showed on television.
Sometimes I look up to the sky and I ask God why bad things happen to good people…and I still don’t have that answer. I remember a conversation once with Lynn when she was little and she wondered why some trees got to grow big and why some trees got cut down before they got big…and I couldn’t think of a right answer. But I thought that her analogy of trees was a pretty good one for life. Why can’t we all live forever?
As I sat under a star lit sky last week, I pondered life and especially a time that, within a span of few months there were three very significant events involving young men… As I sat there remembering each one, I remembered exactly what the weather was like on each of those days and I remembered the exact words that were spoken by the parents during the visits and phone calls that would follow.
Nobody can understand the anguish that a parent feels following the death of a child…it’s just impossible to understand how quick and how deep it cuts into your heart. As a parent myself, I think that one of my biggest fears might be that people would forget my child.
And so this week I just want to assure all of you that I haven’t forgotten your child and that I think of your families often. Sometimes when the moon is bright and the world is beautiful, I peer to the heavens and think of how beautiful your children were. Sometimes when I am at the cemetery, I visit their graves and I remember them because they left a mark on my life too. And as many times as I have read the words on their monuments, I read them again because it touches my heart.
Until next week,
Marc
