and then the rain came.

This weekend my family attended a memorial service for a family friend who was killed in Iraq. He was a dedicated, virtuous, loving man, and nothing I say could do him justice. Five-hundred people came to the service, Governor Lynch spoke, and the rain just poured and poured, masking our tears and soaking us through.

The community support was simply astounding; the whole experience was more moving than I could ever imagine and really made me grateful of my home-town and of how fortunate I am to come from such a supportive community.

I was not ready to leave NH, let alone work. I just wanted to stay a little bit longer, have my parents for comfort, and take a nap on the daybed with Ollie-cat one more time.

These are my (fleeting) thoughts:

It is so easy to place blame or anger or resentment--on Iraq, or our president, or God. Or maybe just the world at large for being such an unjust place. But the most important thing I learned this weeked was this: Doug wanted to be there so much. He thrived on what he did and loved every single minute of it. To have not lived out this dream would have killed him in a different way--his spirit would have been stifled. He died believing in his mission, in his country, and in his desire to help others. He had the most loving, dedicated family and wife, and his legacy already lives on in his amazing, beautiful son.

Doug was a gentleman at age seven, when he volunteered to escort me down the new twisty slide at the playground. I was scared, my mom didn't really fit, and Doug accompanied my three-year-old self to the top of the slide. Although he lost me in the middle, I arrived at the bottom safe and sound. After that, I slide alone all day--the slide wasn't scary anymore. And I was kind of in love with Doug, because he was simply the coolest "big kid" I knew.

And will ever be.



(rest.in.peace)