The Farewell

    Anger sank its icy talons into my heart and began a game of tug-of-war with the grief that had also taken hold. Tears cascaded down my face as my emotions were pulled back and forth. "A pauper's funeral...!" my mind screamed. "He deserved much more than a pauper's funeral!"
    "Do not argue. This is how it is going to be. There is no money." my mother tried to calmly explain. I was grief stricken, and I was outraged. Not only had I just been told that my great-uncle had passed away, but in the same breath, I was also informed that he was going to be cremated.
    Just like that.... Someone I loved was gone. He had slipped away from this world, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. Now, I was dealing with the fact that he had to be cremated. Cremated...? No one in my family had ever been cremated. It did not seem fair. My uncle deserved better. Fury raged within me.
    My uncle meant so much to me. He was a soldier, my hero, and my friend. He wasn't some vagabond. He had family. He had a home. He had risked his life so that we could live in freedom. He was somebody. He deserved so much better.
    My uncle was 93 years old. He had led a full life, but he had dedicated so much of his life to better ours. He retired from both the United States Navy and the United States Army. The story about the change from the Navy to the Army is rather amusing. Ironically, my uncle could not swim. Fearing that he may be shot and required to swim, he retired from the Navy and joined the Army.
    My uncle even served under General Patton. He dedicated years of his life to serving our country, and it pained me to know that he was laying on a cold slab waiting to be cremated. Life seemed so unfair, but there was nothing that I could do...or so I thought.
    The morning after that telephone call brought about a whirlwind of events. I went to visit my cousin and found that she was sick. She was an only child and her father was her life. Suddenly, I found myself facing yet another tragedy. My cousin's life was in danger. I called an ambulance and prayed for her safety. Thankfully, she received the treatment needed, but it required hospitilization. I was grateful that her life was spared, but I was still confused.
    Hours ticked by. A memorial service was scheduled for Saturday. It pained me to think of my uncle's remains in a tiny box. I didn't know if I could bear seeing him that way, but I knew I had to. Many questions raced through my brain. Was my uncle angry at the circumstances? Was my cousin angry that I had found her and called an ambulance? Had she really wanted to just fade away and join her father? Those questions tormented me.
    My uncle's memorial service was held, and I attended. My cousin embraced me and thanked me for saving her. I took a seat beside her and braced myself for the service. Before us sat a folding table, draped with a flag. Soldiers came, saluted, and stood in moments of silence. A table held pictures of my uncle. A shadow box displaying his awards was also displayed. Although a small black box held his remains, the love in our hearts carried his true spirit. As the bugle sounded and echoed in the church, I cried yet again. This time it was not out of anger, but pride. When the flag was presented to my cousin, I reflected on the many lives that my uncle had touched...some known, but many never met.
    My mother, cousin, and I walked to the cemetary together. My uncle was going to receive a burial. I stood behind my cousin. As we bowed our heads to pray, a breeze blew across the grassy lawn. I felt my uncle for a fleeting moment. He seemed to whisper in my ear: "I am at peace. Thank you." His love enveloped me.
    As I write this, tears flow again. I understand that it is not how you depart this world that matters. What matters most is how you live your life. I intend to live mine in a manner that would make my uncle proud. I am going to help take care of my cousin, and I am going to make a difference in this world. Some say that you can not save the world. Why can't we? The greatest gift of all is the love we share for one another. That seems like a good start.