Sunday, June 5, 2022

On Loss

Sandy Eggo, photo taken in January of 2016
I'm feeling a bit on the ragged edge upon this Saturday night as I write.

My Dad would have been 94 on the 6th, he's been gone twelve years now.

Time goes by too damned fast.

It does bring new and good things though and we'll talk about that some time, but not today. I just ain't in the mood for it.

Had a call from LUSH on Friday night, a jet went in near China Lake. The pilot did not survive.

She knows I follow the doings of our military and am particularly sensitive to the affairs of Naval Aviation, having friends and relatives in that business. The call was to assure me that Big Time was safe and sound. No one of our inner circle was involved.

We had another conversation on Saturday. Some of you, perhaps most of you, will get it.

"Thank God it wasn't someone I know ..."

"Dear God, what am I thinking, someone knows and loves him (could be her as well these days)."

The relief, followed quickly by the guilt.

Sometimes it is someone you know.

Friday, thank the Lord, it didn't strike as close to home as it could have. But somewhere a family grieves.

I grieve with them.



23 comments:

  1. A Day arrives, someone calls, a news blurb heard or seen......the memory is triggered and suddenly it's all dusty in here.....

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  2. Run through those same things a time or twelve ourselves; we've been very fortunate in that it has only rarely been someone we know -and we know fewer as retirements come more often. Like you, we have young'uns to worry over now and these are still dangerous things they do; please take comfort from the fact that things happen when and as they should and any questions will be answered in the hereafter.
    My Dad is still with us, I call each week but have no assurance I'll see him again in this life.
    Best to you and yours Sarge
    Boat Guy

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  3. These days, it might not be a him, it might be a her. And a prayer for them, never hurts.

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    1. Exactly. And it was someone who put their life on the line for us.
      I said a prayer for the family after I read about it.

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  4. There's a longer story of course, but my Dad was declared dead on, wait, Father's Day.
    That was 1982 and the bitter pain of loss has slowly been replaced by a wish for more time with him, and good memories of the happy times.
    When I use his machinist's tools for some project, I feel the connection between his hands and mine.
    Darn it, it must be the pollen.

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    1. For those of us that are tactile, there is a connection to using the tools of our elders. The wash of history or nostalgia or... I really can't describe it.....

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    2. STxAR. I felt much the same when I got the 1889 treadle machine working, it is indeed a connection to our elders.

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  5. It seems we still are family / tribe oriented. No matter how civilized we get. "Tribe has suffered, Family is safe." Bittersweet in point of fact. Rejoice and mourn. Oh how I hate guilt...

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  6. I think it's a natural reaction, to have fear that someone you know or love has died tragically, but then feel relieved that it was someone else. No need to feel guilty, especially if we still mourn the dead after that sense of relief.

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  7. Lightly lie the bonds, until without warning, no time has passed, and they pull.

    STxAR, I like the way you put that, it is bittersweet, indeed. "Tribe has suffered, family is safe." We know our times will come.

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  8. This particular time of year dredges up all manner of memories, happy and sad (as if sad was the right word).
    The passage of time will do that.
    If we live in the moment, those memories won’t crush us.
    So we go outside and mulch the garden.

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  9. Reminded me of my thoughts over Memorial Day looking at images of American cemeteries in Europe and Asia. It struck me that each cross or headstone represented a grieving family back home. Thousands of grieving families..

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  10. Sarge - I saw this, and of course I should had made the connection (and did not). As you say, there is almost a perverse sense of being grateful and at the same time realizing that the sorrow has been transferred elsewhere, not eliminated.

    If I remember correctly, we may share a distant connection in that Big Time's current posting was my paternal Uncle's last posting (many years ago, obviously). My aunt continued to live near the base until her passing in 2020.

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  11. Sometimes those feelings sneak up on you. A neighbor was a policeman who took four rounds in his torso and survived. Over the years those injuries have lead to more health problems. Seeing him reminds me of my military and LEO relatives and what they face. Fate can't be beat, simply dealt with the best we can.

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  12. My dad's been dead for more than half my life. And I still miss him.

    As to the guilt cycle one feels when no personal connection is involved in a death, yeah, it sucks. But the ability to separate oneself from not-directly-connected deaths is very much a survival trait.

    Still, damn. I hope it was just random un-luck rather than a loss connected to some dweeb's cost-cutting measures.

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    1. And how are you doing? It's been a while my good friend, hope all is well.

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  13. Born on the anniversary of "The Longest Day". Wow! Makes it hard to forget what the date is. I wonder if anyone else was also? ;-)

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  14. It may be a regional thing, but my area of west central MN had two bad storms just over a week apart-60-80 mph straight line winds in my area and tornados that devastated lake homes to east and tore a small town apart. Miraculously, no one was killed or even seriously injured. Afterwards, farmers at the local coffee shop would calmly recite a litany of their damage, usually ending with "It could have been worse" as the others nodded agreement...

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  15. Freedom is not free. This is the price paid by rough men and women preparing to do violence on behalf of those sleeping safely in their beds, who little know, and sadly do not really respect their sheepdogs.

    May God bless our guardians, and their friends and families.
    John Blackshoe

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  16. One of the drawbacks of living to a certain age is that the Grim Reaper is always around. Friends, family. Three in the last year (a brother, last remaining uncle, old friend). One has to grieve and then get on with it. I've seen what happens when one can't, just leads to more grief for more people.

    Once, my mom was asked by a friend why she let all of her kids have dogs. She said it was so they learned how to care for another creature and how to deal with it when a loved one dies.

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Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

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