Tag Archives: Willamette National Cemetery

What a wild emotional ride

I suppose one could say it’s one thing to experience profound sadness and great joy alternately, but it’s something quite different when you experience them both simultaneously.

Well, I am here to tell you that the latter emotional experience took over the past couple of days.

We gathered in Portland, Ore., to bury a beloved member of our family. Jim Phillips was laid to rest at Willamette National Cemetery after a remarkable service at Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church. They played “Taps” at the cemetery; we watched a military honor guard march with intense precision; we watched as well the folding of the Stars and Stripes that shrouded his casket and the presentation of the flag to Uncle Jim’s wife.

I joined other members of my family who had the high honor of being pallbearers for Uncle Jim. Two of Uncle Jim’s grandsons joined his son and three of his nephews in accompanying him to his eternal rest.

Now, I know that these experiences are far from unique. Other families endure grief and pain when a loved one dies. They also remember the good times with joy and laughter. We had plenty of that as well.

What I found remarkable, speaking only for myself, is the emotional intermingling of the pain and the  joy … at the same moment! Yes, I am certain that at several occasions during this time of fellowship and family togetherness that I could feel the pain and laughter competing for my heart’s attention.

Those two unique emotions need not have competed. I found that my ticker has ample room for all of it at once. I felt joyful and sad, happy and mournful. It occurred without a single bit of emotional stress.

I am home now. My heart still hurts at the loss, but my heart also is full of joy at the celebration of a great man’s full life. He was the embodiment of human exuberance.

That is what I choose to remember … even while I wrestle with my grief.

Preparing to bid farewell to a family patriarch

This picture tells you plenty about a man I want to honor with this brief post.

He is James G. Phillips. He was my Uncle Jim. He was my mother’s baby brother who died this past weekend at the age of 93.

He was proud officer in the U.S. Army. Uncle Jim retired eventually from the Army Reserve as a colonel and in a few days he will be laid to rest at Willamette National Cemetery in Portland, Ore. I will be there to say goodbye to my beloved uncle. He will be afforded full military honors.

Uncle Jim suffered most recently from what I would argue is the most dreaded disease imaginable: Alzheimer’s disease. His body looked the same. The disease, though, stole this man’s essence. It took away his ability to tell a tale, to convey any segment of his wonderful, full life. He was as fluent in Greek as he was in English, which is to say he spoke both languages with absolute clarity, humor and intelligence.

I am likely to say something later about the ravages of Alzheimer’s disease, as I remain committed to calling attention to the need to devote more resources, more energy and more research into finding an ultimate cure for this murderous ailment.

For now, though, I just want to offer this brief comment about someone who stood large in my family. I know we all have ancestors who engender pride. You do as well as I do.

However, I will fight like hell to avoid getting sucked into a spasm of grief. As one of Uncle Jim’s daughters told me just the other day, our sadness in this instance will produce plenty of reasons to rejoice in the many happy memories we all have of this great man.