Guest writer

Day to remember

The fallen deserve our gratitude

Today is Memorial Day, a time set apart to remember the military men and women who died in service to our country. It holds special meaning for me because my brother, Capt. Wilbur Dale Latimer, is among those we honor.

Will was 26 when he was killed on Jan. 19, 1971, during his second tour of duty in the Vietnam War.

His picture ran on the front page of the two state newspapers, and a minister wrote a beautiful guest column for the Searcy Daily Citizen honoring him. The church was full the day of his funeral, and friends and acquaintances spoke and wrote wonderful words of comfort.

However, the real challenge began after everyone went home and we had to learn to carry on without him.

I've always been proud of Will's service to his country, as I am of those who have stood and continue to stand between the despots of this world and us. I was never anti-war, but I confess that for a time, I felt that those we lost in Vietnam died in vain. It was a terrible place to be emotionally, but a soldier's visit helped me move past it.

I'll never forget the day I came home from work to find a message on my answering machine from Clyde, telling me he how much he had loved and respected my brother. He said he considered Will to be the best officer he had ever served under.

I learned later that Clyde carried a special guilt because Will had bumped him from a mission and flown it himself. He never understood why Will had taken that sniper's bullet instead of him and had always wanted to meet our family and tell us so.

Finally after the Gulf War began, Clyde found the courage to contact us. That call led to a visit, and before it was over, he had related the details of the day Will died to three groups of family members. But probably just as important as those details were the love and respect Clyde conveyed for our guy. For the first time, I found a measure of peace concerning Will's sacrifice.

Each new war brings stories of fallen soldiers. As I read or listen, I want to tell the families I understand their devastation. I know firsthand what it means for holidays and family milestones. I've lain awake at night and asked why. I know that your loved one is with you every moment, yet out of reach.

So to those of you who have lost sons or daughters, fathers or mothers, brothers, sisters and friends, I want to say, whether this is the first or 45th Memorial Day you've observed since the death of your loved one, you are not alone. Our numbers are vast. We may be at different places in our journeys to acceptance, but we've been where you are today or will be soon.

You may think you'll never laugh or rejoice at a sunrise again, but you will. It will take time, but the day will arrive when you'll realize you've gone for hours without thinking about him. The first reaction will probably be guilt. But don't accept it. The mundaneness of life is what saves us from our sorrow. Getting up every day and going to work or school, taking care of the kids, or whatever you do, will help you through this time, and it will honor your loved one.

Carrying on with life may feel disloyal, but it isn't. Instead, living well in the sense of embracing our days can be our tribute to those who gave their lives for our liberty. Whatever the war, each fallen service person has joined the ranks of a remarkable group of men and women who deserve our heartfelt gratitude for their courage and sacrifice.

To the rest of you, today's the day to tell Gold Star families, "I remember him." "I remember her." Make a phone call, write a note, shake a hand.

Bestow the gift of remembrance upon those who carry the losses of our nation. Recall a childhood exploit or funny story. What did you appreciate about their soldier? What will you always remember about their sailor or airman? If you didn't know their loved one personally, a kind smile and brief word of appreciation for his or her sacrifice will do just fine.

But don't limit your tributes to this official occasion. Any day is a good time to share your memories of our loved one with us. We will thank you for it. In fact, we will love you and never forget your thoughtfulness. And you might just bring a healing touch in the process.

So what are you waiting for? Pick up the phone or write that note.

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Dorothy Johnson is an Arkansas native and longtime resident of Little Rock. She shares her thoughts on life and faith at Reflections from Dorothy's Ridge (www.reflectionsfromdorothy.blogspot.com).

Editorial on 05/30/2016

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