When Erin and Lance announced their engagement two years ago, I realized that Lance was in our lives to stay. That is the point where he was welcomed into my heart and I began thinking about his impending overseas assignment. That is when I stopped listening to the news. That is when I started to worry and had to stop myself from it several times a day.
It is also about the time that as I drove by the Ft. Snelling National Cemetery most days, I'd tell myself that I wanted to visit and take some pictures.
This is an amazingly large facility, with over 436 acres containing over 172,000 interments in the years since 1870. It is a good reminder, whether you are driving by at 65 on the freeway, or roaming its avenues, of the number of lives that have been affected by the various wars our country has faced this last century. Not everyone in that cemetery died at war, but every one there had their lives affected by the loneliness of active duty.
Today I finally made it. I wondered why it had taken so long. Why after two years of driving by was I suddenly able to stop? And then I realized the truth. For nearly two years I have been afraid. Afraid that by entering that graveyard I was allowing the possibility that I'd be attending a funeral there. Afraid that somehow to become familiar with that place would mean opening a door of possibility that Lance would join their ranks. Craziness, I know.
Now he is home, or nearly so, and it felt safer to go today. I drove around, took some pictures, recognized some names, placed a few rocks.
I cried a few tears of relief though. Guilty relief because I know so many others have not been so fortunate as we.
And then I went to the information center and looked up the location of my Uncle Roger's site. Lieutenant, Jr Grade Roger William Esh was on active duty from June 23, 1958 until November 20, 1961 during the Vietnam war. His daughter, Lucinda, served in the Navy as an aircraft test pilot and flew helicopters. Her husband is Commander Mark Montgomery, currently commanding 7 battleships in the Pacific Ocean. Uncle Rog died 10/29/1992, and although I attended a memorial service, I did not attend the actual burial. I've never visited his grave, which is amazing considering how close I live to the cemetery.
This is a picture of my Uncles. Uncle Rog is on the left. His big brother, who served in WWII, is pictured here after his discharge in his North American (one day to become Northwest) Airlines uniform.
The kiosk allowed me to print a map and I headed to section 15 to find his stone. To no avail. There was the stone numbered right before his, and four after his, but his and three others were not there.
I can't believe how upset I was.
So, a morning of rejoicing that Lance is okay and will not be joining the ranks at Ft. Snelling from the war zone, and a day of wondering where my Uncle's headstone is.
