Dear Editor,
I’m still young and in good health but I know that one day I’m going to die. There’s no escaping it. That means that rather than denying death, I must come to terms with it.
And of the questions I would like to know before I die are: What would the chiseled stone reveal about the life it immortalized? How would I want it to read? What story would it tell? What do I think those who survive me will write as my epitaph? How will my obituary read? What words will be used in the eulogy to sum up my life?
So if tomorrow is the great getting-up morning, if tomorrow I met my maker, and he asked me what I did with my life… Here is my own eulogy.
I will say…
I was born a poor lad in a violent village. When I went to school, the teachers called me a fool so I dropped out of high school. Some people called me a good for nothing and said that I’ll never amount to anything. But then, I came to America and joined the military and became a Christian and that saved my life.
I would tell him how fearful I was of dying on the battlefield in Iraq. Even though I wanted to go to war, I didn’t have an ounce of courage in combat. It was a tremendous privilege to protect and defend America. Although I was fearful of dying, I was still willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. It would have been a great honour to die for my country and I wouldn’t have regretted it.
Because America has given me so much. It helped me to reach the unreachable and made my impossible dream come through. I love Guyana because I was born here, and I love America because I became a man there. My heart and soul belonged to America.
But I wouldn’t tell him how many times I risked my life in combat to protect/keep America. And I wouldn’t tell him about the time that I almost got blown up in Iraq. But God had mercy on me.
And I wouldn’t tell him about the time when I went to war, my four year old told me, “to come home right now because I’ve been gone too long.” Her words broke my heart and brought me to tears because I couldn’t go home. How do I explain to a four year old, I couldn’t come home? Do I explain to her the meaning of: “Duty,” “Honor,” “Country” and “Service before Self?”
Further, I wouldn’t tell him that I tried to be a good role model and mentor to children. At my own expense, I travelled to ten regions in Guyana to speak at schools, community centres and churches to encourage children to stay in school. How many sleepless nights I spent in the hinterland sleeping on boats, on dirty mattresses and in dirty hotels to help the poor, powerless and forgotten.
Last, I wouldn’t tell him that I tried to fight a good fight; I tried to keep the faith; I tried to finish the course, and I tried to love and serve humanity.
Yours faithfully,
Anthony Pantlitz
