Remembering Will

Now that I am close to 40 and far from 14, I often wonder if I’m better at gauging reality, or just jaded.  My middle school students provide a constant reminder that my views on life vary significantly from those of today’s adolescence. I know change is constant and inevitable, but I don’t know if it's me that's changed more or the World around me. In my mind, I see the Summer evenings of my teen years twinkling with countless fireflies. I hear the chirps of bugs and frogs in the otherwise still, dark night. In the lush landscape of chilldhood Summer, I feel myself surrounded by thicker, greener plants and trees.  Maybe it’s my memory playing tricks on my reluctant grown-up’s mind…”in the old days, “ it whispers.  Everyone can idealize a time, place, or person from the distant past.  Nonetheless, some things burn so brightly that you're sure to remember them clearly.  I have a memory of a person like this.

I met Will Bushelle in the 6^th grade.  He was in my class at school and later in Boy Scouts with my brother, Andrew.  Will’s brother, Robbie, was in the Troop too, and our Dads were Scoutmasters.  Our families shared Friday night dinners and Sunday hikes in the woods.  We went on vacation together.  Will always amazed me by befriending strangers, talking to people he just met like he’d known them for years. Always so respectful of adults, he conversed with them like their peer, unlike the awkward, self-conscious interactions I always seemed to have with teachers and parents.  Just like everyone else, I wanted to be around him.  I loved it when he would smile at me as we talked, engaging me in his passion for life.

The Summer after our  Junior year in high school, the four of us Turk and Bushelle kids planned a backpacking trip to the Smoky mountains.  Their Boy Scout Troop had been hiking on mountain ranges all over the US.  Andrew tried to warn me that it would be rough.  As an avid runner, however, I was sure I had it made.   After all, I was the Captain of  the Cross Country and Track teams.   He told me it would be different with the altitude, the weight of the pack, the steady incline of the trail.  Yet, as a typical know-it-all 17 year old, I scoffed. I walked up and down stairs all day at school with heavy books in my back pack, I said.  In fact, I was more worried about whether I would find adequate jogging conditions once we arrived at camp each day. 

Needless to say, halfway through that first day on the trail in Tennesee, I was ready to cry.  I had started out at a ridiculously fast pace, worrying I wouldn’t get enough exercise on this trip. Unlike the boys, I hadn’t trained with the hiking pack walking around the neighborhoods and local trails back home, even though Andrew had suggested it to me. We had an hour hike left before we could stop and I was in really bad shape.  I didn’t think I was going to make it.  Without a hint of  bravado, Will asked for my pack.  No “I told you so,” no scolding, no judgment, he told me he’d carry it to camp.  We were at a really steep point in the hike. The whole first day was a steady up-hill climb.  With his pack still on his back, he lifted mine over his head and trudged on to camp without a single complaint.  He wasn’t interested in showing off, he just did it.  He was more than willing to carry twice his share of the load. That’s just who he was.

After we graduated from high school, I went to College and Will joined the Navy.  Not long after he completed basic training, I found out from his parents that he was going to become a Navy SEAL.  We wouldn’t see or hear from Will often after that.  My brother and I wrote him letters when his Mom said he was lonesome for home.  I heard that in SEAL training they would blindfold you, drop you off miles into the Ocean, in the middle of the night, and make you swim for shore in shark infested waters.  I heard that they had to let themselves drown and then be revived by fellow trainees to build trust in their teammates.  As I struggled to figure out who I was and what I wanted to be, I thought of Will.  He always seemed so sure of himself.  I marveled at his strength and courage.  I wondered if he was ever afraid.  If he was, he didn’t show it.  It comforted me to know that he was out there somewhere, strong and alive with adventure.

Years went by, Will would surface on Facebook and then disappear.  I wondered about him from time to time.  I pictured him in the Desert, on a mountaintop, tan and smiling, determined.  Then, right around the beginning of this past school year, he showed up in my news feed again, just as handsome as ever, but older now.  His kind and reflective posts showed me that he had become an amazing man. The wild teenage lust for life was still there, but had been tempered by wisdom and experience.  I could only imagine all of the things he had done and seen throughout his long career as a SEAL, things he couldn’t talk about with his family or friends.  I wondered if that made him feel lonely.  I was glad to read his loving exchanges with family members and close friends.  Again, I was happy to have his bright and hopeful ray of light back in my world.

I’ve struggled to find my path in life and I feel like I’m finally getting a firm footing in the right direction.  Close to New Year’s eve he posted this:

 The New Year is coming- though we needn't wait for it to make positive changes in our lives it is a good time to challenge yourself and decide on a fresh start-believe in yourselves. I know this year will bring you all blessings as well as hardships- and as you are all friends and family I will love and support you in any way I can. Seize your opportunities and dreams- I believe in you all- be hungry and do great things for yourselves, and in some way serve those around you- be healthy, be happy, be strong and be LOVE.
-Will

As I read it, I felt a surge of determination go through me.  Some people post things on Facebook to get attention or to feel better about themselves.  I knew this wasn’t one of those posts.  It was pure Will, full of energy and love, always ready to share.  I wanted to thank him for his inspirational words, but I didn’t.

About a month later, early on Valentine’s Day morning, I read this as I drank my coffee alone in the dark:

Today isn't really special or truly significant, but if it does remind you to appreciate those who love you and those who you love than I fully support it. Just try to express, feel and return love regularly - don't wait for reminders. It can disappear so quickly and we only have so many moments to share with one another. Never fail to show a friend, child, mother, father, spouse, pet or whomever you feel love for that you care- I promise you will never regret the times you said "I love you". You will only regret when you had the chance and didn't. I will close by saying I KNOW you will all have a fantastic Friday and it will be full of love- but it was full of love yesterday and last week as well- sometimes it's just easier to see that you are cared for and loved than other times. Love to you all.

This time I commented,  “Will, I feel compelled to comment.  I love that you think this and that you unabashedly put it out there.  You are awesome.”  I am so glad that I did.  Less than two days later, I found out that Will had died in a car accident near his home in Las Vegas, where he worked as an industrial engineer when not deployed by the Navy reserves. 

Some people get mad at God when something this tragic happens.  They ask things like, “Why did God take this person?”  or, “If there is a God, why did he let this happen?”  I believe that God does not and can not intervene in the day to day happenings of our lives.  Instead, we can choose to align ourselves with a divine will. We can choose positive thinking, we can choose to believe in ourselves and others, we can choose Love.  Will chose all of those things and set a beautiful example for those around him to follow.  Now, when I think of Will, I won’t wonder if he’s scared, I won’t wonder if he’s lonely.  I will believe a little more in my dreams.  I will hold my family a little closer.  Like he did, I will try to show others the beauty in this life.