It seems I have spent the morning crying. I just learned that the son of my Graduate professors, a young man of 23 named Sgt William Stacey, U.S.M.C. was killed on January 31st in Afghanistan. When I knew Will, he was a very smart, very serious young man of 10 -- the same age as my eldest son is now. I liked Will. I liked his kindness and the love he showed his little sister, Anna. I liked the solemn serious way he considered things and the thoughtful way he answered questions. In the intervening years, I have lost touch with the Staceys. Life, in the form of two little boys, has taken up my attention but... I remember Will. And I grieve for his parents and for his sister. There is nothing I can do to help the whole his loss has made. I grieve for the future he might have had -- as I suspect everyone who loses someone so young does. And I have to do something...
This morning, therefore, I ordered trees planted in his home state of Washington. They will grow and benefit people as he should have been able to do. And I am donating to the Veterans' fund -- so that those soldiers who do come home will have the help they need. These wars are costing us so much more than money... they are costing us some of the brightest lights of our future. Something must be done and I guess that perhaps I need to try to figure out how to help...
In your honor, then, Will. May you rest in Peace. You are not forgotten.
