When life happens, I blog. It’s one of the ways that I deal with things. Somehow, it helps to get my thoughts and feelings out. And whether or not another soul ever reads them is beside the point. It makes me feel better just knowing that I have been able to express myself.
But there comes a time when even those of us that like to convey things through writing, need to time to collect our thoughts, process life and deal with the overwhelming feelings. The past couple of weeks has been one of those times.
I had a lot of time to think the past few days as I drove home for a funeral that I hoped would never actually come. I’ve relived a lot of memories from the past fifteen years. I’ve laughed. I’ve cried. I’ve hugged my family and my friends. I’ve reevaluated life. And I’m still not sure that what is in my head is going to come out in the way that I want it to, but I’m going to try.
On November 2, 2010 1st Lt. James Zimmerman was killed in the line of duty in Afghanistan. He was a Marine and a darn good one at that. And being a Marine was what James had always wanted to do. No one could have ever talked him out of it. According to those that served with him, the heat of the battle was when he really shined. And I have no trouble believing that, because that is the James that I knew.
I first met James in 5th grade. We were 10 years-old and attending a very small Christian school meant that you knew everyone in your class. James and I graduated together. The years between 5th and 12th grade could be defined as “love/hate” years. Sometimes we got along great and other times we were at each others throats. But at the end of the day, we had each others’ back and we were always still friends.
Many people over the last couple of weeks have talked about James’ smile. It was his trademark and very infectious. I remember when I first met him I thought he had the biggest smile and the most freckles I’d ever seen. And he definitely had a way of making friends and helping everyone feel welcome.
Last Thursday, the day of James’ funeral, was a very painful day. But as it was put during the service, “our hearts were sad but bursting with pride”. I graduated in a class of thirteen and ten of us were there. I don’t think that any of us thought that we wouldn’t make it to our ten year reunion without us all being around for it. But that’s life. And it rarely happens the way that we think it will.
But through the pain and sadness and not understanding why, I’ve thought about James’ enthusiasm for life and how he would definitely remind us all to live life to the fullest, to have fun, to challenge ourselves and to love those around us. That’s who he was. And it may seem cliché to put it that way, but I think that every now and then we all need to be reminded of that. Life is short. We don’t know how much time we have so we should be living the life that we want - one that, if our time stopped today, others could look at and know that we gave it our all.
James gave his all. He laid down his life for his friends. He died doing what he believed in and we are all truly grateful and thankful to him. I’m proud to have known him and called him a friend.
“Dance like no one is watching, love like you’ll never be hurt, sing like no one is listening, and live like it’s heaven on earth.” ~William Purkey
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