It cannot be denied that we live in interesting times, and not just on a broad stage, but here at the local level as well. There's quite a plethora of topics that I could write about, ranging from the new hotel to the advent of the first ever Leavenworth FreedomFest, such that I should never have just cause for complaining that I can't think of an idea. (Albeit that's never stopped me in the past.)
However, today I would not like to write about the times, but the eternities. I want to talk about something that happens to everyone eventually, particularly in a town like Leavenworth. I want to talk about saying goodbye, particularly to those in the military.
I don't suppose it would require the brilliant wit of Sherlock Holmes to infer that I'm in the process of saying goodbye to someone right now. She's part of a very tight-knit group of friends of mine, and I've only had the privilege of her friendship for a little more than a year, but I've come to know her so well that we might as well have been friends from the cradle. However, her dad is being transferred, and opaque providence is whisking her off to the Low Countries, placing a distance between us that I could not cover if I walked for two months at a constant rate without stopping.
As I said, we have all been through this kind of experience, especially as our friends in the military get picked up and relocated, and we all wish it did not have to happen.There is nothing more painful than being separated from the ones that you love, whether it be by distance, death or disgust. It ought to be painful. We were not designed for separation. We were designed to love and to be loved and to live in that love forever, but we live in a fallen world that will not always allow us to do so as we would wish. Love gets pushed to the side as reality takes its course, and we are told to carry on with our lives as usual.
Yet how can we? How can we carry on as usual when someone who has become so close to us has been taken from us? A doctor might as well tell a man to carry on as usual after he has just amputated both of his legs. Try as he might, there will always be something missing from his life that will make it more difficult to get along. While it's true that the man could obtain prosthetic limbs, and those separated by distance can make use of electronic communication, it's not quite the same as having your own legs made of your own flesh.
However, the poet Virgil once penned that "love conquers all," and that much I know to be true, for while the act of love is to place the good of another above one's own, the being of love will always do everything in its power to get its own way.
Page 2 of 2 - Love, when strong enough, will overcome all divisions. It will heal the wounds between injured parties. It will circumambulate the planet as many times as it has to in order to close distances, and if all else fails it will persevere right through death itself.
Clarke Peterson is a 16-year-old student who lives in Leavenworth.