If You Need Me

Crypt

I think we all wonder why certain people are dead, and why others are not. Not in cruel way, but its hard to rationalize as a friend, as a sister: two men encountered the same accident, and one walked away and the other didn't. It sounds so contrary, to look at the solider you prayed and cried over and begged God to protect and think to yourself "Why did you only bring him home?"

I take off my glasses for the conversations that bring tears to my eyes, praying in my heart, the lack of a frame will make it better for those watching. I wonder often what he would say about this, if he was home. It feels strange to say his name, as if by saying it, I am just trying with all of my might to keep a deadman alive. He was so many amazing qualities his name could not simply communicate. He's dead, I'm not. I'm the one writing this down: for all intensive purposes, let's just call him Arwan.

I've gotten married since he left. It's a strange thing to marry after your life has been so graciously impacted by wise men. You marry a young man and you expect him to be like these men who have walked generations ahead of you. I feel like Arwan could have seen that long before I did. I just figured it out about a week ago, if I'm being completely honest. To be a young wife is to learn and to grow and to be reshaped, but its to find the strength in together rather than alone. Arwan knew that better than the rest of us; I think he could tell me a thing or two about how to find better footing here.

Crypt was one of his favorite words. He'd tell me, "You gotta get movin', there's already a crypt with your name on it." He wasn't running from death, no, he was more often running towards it if I'm being candid. But I think about that idea often now: we're all dying, so what will I do with my breath? Maybe that's how I rationalize the two outcomes from one accident.

I am the one called to serve, not the one to ordain. He'd tell me that over and over and over and over until my brain was fried. Times ticking and I've gotta a mission.