I did not have the privilege of knowing Harold "Sonny" Nester Sr. for long. We did not see him often. But, everytime I saw him, and everytime we talked, he was honest, straightforward, welcoming and a damn good story teller, which I appreciated.
There are no illusions in the mind of military men and women. We all know positively that life is precious and can be gone in an instant. As such, you learn to understand that you cannot chase around after the things that will hold off death. You learn that it will come and claim you, sometimes because you are deep in the shit and that is what it is, and sometimes you are an innocent bystander to anything that is occurring and still you can be gone.
There is a community among those who have served. We know one another on sight. We tend to trust one another, in a general and non-specific way, that there will be a square deal between us. We tend to understand each other, through things not said clearly, but merely alluded to. We tend to be able to stand each other, even if everyone else finds us to be overbearing and raw.
Sonny was a good man. I won't claim he was perfect. Again, I did not spend anywhere near the kind of time with him, that it would take to be clearly educated about him. However, the time we did spend together, left me knowing that Sonny was a good guy. He would do anything for me, within reason. Meaning, I probably could not have gotten him to help me rob a bank, but he would clearly have come and helped get me out of the ditch if I needed it.
Sonny was a patriot. Not a blind and inconsiderate type that set your teeth on edge. Much like me, he saw plenty that desperately needed to be addressed. He saw things that pained him in his soul, how few today volunteer and serve, how few of our leaders have served or understand service. But, these were not things of despair, these were things that need to be fixed as only America can fix them. He did not respect, nor understand those who desecrated the flag. Like me, too many of his friends and close family had been covered in that flag on their way to eternal rest. It was a painful thing, one of the things we did talk about at some length at his dining room table.
Sonny was a father, one whose children loved him deeply. There was no doubt as to the love they felt for their father, and no doubt in his mind they loved him back. I can't stress how important that last part is to a father. Fathers see the world as a dangerous place, requiring their intervention constantly to keep the family safe. He worried about all the children, in all the ways they were different. That is something that never stops as a father. The only reward, the only proof in our souls to know we have succeeded is to know for sure, the children love us back. If they give us nothing but that love, we are richer beyond the dreams of the greediest there are.
Sonny was many things, and I did not know him when he still had his full health. I can't say we went trapping together, but I would have liked to. I can't say we went fishing together, but I would have liked to. We mostly sat around and talked, amidst the buzz of a house full of family in and out. I wish I had known him sooner, in both our lives.
But, those are not the things that struck me today, as I stood at the Soutwest Virginia Regional Veterans Cemetery. We were gathered there, for the proper rendering of full military honors for a Tech Sergeant in the Air Force that did his 20 years of honorable service, fought overseas for his country and gave much of his health and force for the good of his country.
What struck me was more that a true son of that valley, the New River Valley, was being laid to rest. Our time there had been grey and raining and cold, as if the mountains themselves were sorrowed to see their son pass. It was as if the very valley mourned that it would no longer feel his tread, hunting ginseng, walking the river, trapping, playing at its golf courses. As when a bell loses its clapper, so did the weather feel, leaden and kind of muffled and incorrect.
The mood infected the family. This is a heartbreaking moment, to lose a father and grandfather. No family passes it without significant and difficult changes. If the mountains and valley mourned, so much more so did the family. It was an aching kind of lost feeling they gave off. The center was missing, and like a tire that loses a weight, the balance of the spin was off. It was kind of a lurching and irregular journey through the days leading up to the service.
None rested well, none felt any kind of peace. All had the dread that there was nothing to do but to complete the tasks associated with someone passing. It felt too long and like not enough time at the same time. They had fought his illness alongside him and in their prayers, we all had. There was no real appetite to complete all that was required, but, there was nothing left to do but do it. And so they did.
So, today, after days of leaden rain, during the rendering of honors, the skies were not totally grey. The wind blew a chill through us all, as if to remind us of just how solemn this event was, that life was somehow colder for us all.
See Daddy's never go without leaving holes. Big, deep and wide, chasms in our lives that pain us daily. As I remarked to Katrina earlier, a world without your Daddy in it is a much scarier world. I am not afraid of much, but it pains me to know that my Daddy no longer is here to help.
Sonny left big, deep, wide holes in people's lives. That is because he was a good man, and loving father and friend. Even the mountains and river he held as maybe his first and oldest friends seemed gloomy without him around. There are no words I can say to the family that will help them. I am too new to this life without my own Daddy. I have nothing to tell them, other than it is okay to hurt.
It is okay to feel off balance. It is okay to feel tired to your core. It is okay to not know what you are going to do. It is okay. It doesn't feel like it. It doesn't seem like it should be.
But, Sonny raised you to be okay. Sonny raised you to be yourselves. Sonny raised you to honor others, and yourselves. His body is gone, but Sonny never will be. See, he lives in each of you, in everyone that he loved. He passed all that he knew to be important. He did that because he loved you, but he also knew that he would not be there always to help you through it. But, because he imprinted you with himself, he will really be there forever.
The reason I know this, is that while I was grieving for Sonny with you, all I could hear was my Daddy's voice. "No man with family ever really dies." He told me that when we were talking about my grandfather passing.
No man with family ever dies. No man that the mountains, the river and the valley mourns with you will ever be forgotten. He was a good man, and his family is all the testament anyone will need to know that.
GLYASDI
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