in memorium Capt. Jonathan Snyder
Jun 7, 2012
a letter from Capt. Snyder’s mother telling me it’s the 4th anniversary of his death in Afghanistan. she has wise words to say. I’ll ask her if I can share them.
from our experience in losing a young one, I find the huge disconnect is that we grow older, their siblings grow older. things change. styles. technologies. our physical changes. babies are born (in our family two days ago!), people get married. other marriages finish. the elders get older. and yet when we look at photos of our lost ones, they are forever young. they are forever, in those photographs we cling to, surrounded by the family we used to be. forever.
and how in my heart I hope desperately, our lost ones live forever. young. surrounded by that cocoon of a family. all of us somewhere together. young.
here is a poem I’ve posted previously twice.
written by Jonathan’s father. it says it all. my condolences to the Snyder family.
Cottonwoods at Lone Hand Ranch
June 2008, no summer in Penticton yet;
the rain last week more like March or November.
Last night it hailed, then poured for six wet hours.
In Summerland, the apricots froze.
This is the coldest June on record this centennial year;
and at LH Ranch all the trees are down,
all the cottonwoods have been cut, dumpstered and removed.
And east of Zhari two dogs whimper,
Await their master who is not there;
and at the airport in Kandahar a soldier is ramped home.
His photo on the ‘National’;
his life, beauty, presence removed by chance
like cottonwoods at Lone Hand Ranch.