Eighteen years ago today, my Father died. I would say he lived a good life, but he died a hard death. The photo above was taken on Iwo Jima during WWII. Daddy is 4th from the left in the bottom row. He served in the Navy as an Electrician's Mate Third Class (an aircraft machianic) in CASU 52, attached to the 5th Marine Divison.
Other, better known men were also on Iwo Jima in WWII, including the Photographer Joe Rosenthal, who took the famous Mount Suribachi flag raising photograph. Joe Rosenthal died yesterday in an assisted living facility in San Francisco. I know nothing more of his death.
My father died in a hospital bed in his own living room. At the moment of his death, three of his children were holding hands at this bedside, jumping up and down, crying and saying, "Thank God! He did it. He's gone. He's gone." It was as if a great weight of gloom had lifted, the clouds had parted and the sun was finally shining down on us again.
Sometimes I wonder if the main purpose in life is not to get to the other side of it. On August 21, 1988, Daddy made it to the other side of life.