This day was filled with thoughts of you.
Cracker crumbs, sweet jam, and strong cheese; so close I could nearly brush the trail of morsels from my lap.
I lifted your pen in my own hand, fingered through your Bible, and felt the graze of your sweater near my cheek.
The sensation of the dusty-blue hued carpet in the coach you made a home lingers on my toes even now, while your eagle guarded door still opens wide in my mind’s eye.
There is a phone call to your eldest, comfort and warm laughter with the women, and boldly brewed coffee with the men.
I’m touching the remnants.
You have left them everywhere, like a splendid mess– they exist in the curve of our womanly hips, the height of our stature, and the strength of our hearts.
Your remnants are in our service for our country, or the innate hospitality for our neighbors- our open tables that invite and nourish all those we love.
Traces of you are wrapped delicately in our love for writing, or our compassion in nursing.
They remain in our determination of walking the narrow gospel trail, or our understanding that this world is not small.
It is a profound reality.
How each of us, in our varying manners, carry you within the posture of our lives.
You were always been the thin place for us.
The paper-thin place where we could see through to the divine.
It was your kindness, your wisdom, and your sincerely woven beauty.
And now as the twilight of your life has come and gone and the break of each day is void of your morning grace, know that we carry a legacy forward filled to the brim with these remnants.
Remnants of strength, passion, and service; deeply rooted and knotted to the soul you broke into pieces and placed within each of us.
We salute you, Lieutenant.
You are loved, you are missed, and we are so glad you are home.