Small Comforts make the time go by

   Those not familiar with the new reincarnation of Crystal (or at least this month's version) often tell me how much I've changed from when they knew me last. Its not just that most of my accent is gone or that I'm not as unstable as I once was, its just also I'm more serene. I often put this up to more self analyzation and reflection, but the truth is that I've tried to mature. Part of that is the daily things I tell myself. Some times its proverbs, often its quotes, or just small events in my life that I hold to my heart. I've discovered I need those more than ever the last few days.    George Orwell once said "People sleep peacefully at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."    Mark Twain - “Let us endeavor so to live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."    William Shakespeare - “So wise so young, they say, do never live long.”    David Searls - “Seeing death as the end of life is like seeing the horizon as the end of the ocean.”    Benjamin Franklin - “Our friend and we were invited aboard on a party of pleasure, which is to last forever. His chair was ready first, and he has gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together; and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him.”    I tell myself that he died in a state of grace and that is what we should all hope for. I tell myself that perhaps he was just too good for this world. I tell myself that he died doing the greatest service to his country. And furthermore, I tell myself that it was his time.

   Yeah, none of this helps.

   I'm so angry. I'm so angry and tired. I want to raise my fist in the air and ask, why? Why do we expect young men to take the bullets and the bombs when we can't even face ourselves in the mirror? Why is there so much waste? Why did this promising young man die?    Some people can take comfort in God, in heaven, and in His mercy. I'm just hoping to find a few minutes when the weight on my shoulders in a little lighter. I can't get his face out of my head.

James Whitcomb Riley -

“I cannot say, and I will not say

That he is dead.

He is just away.

With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,

He has wandered into an unknown land.

And left us dreaming how very fair

It needs must be since he lingers there.

And you— you, who the wildest yearn

For the old-time step and the glad return—

Think of him faring on, as dear

In the love of there as the love of here;

Think of him still as the same, I say;

He is not dead—he is just away.”