Elegy

"If fidelity to freedom and democracy is the code of our civic religion then surely the code of our humanity is faithful service to that unwritten commandment that we will give our children better than we ourselves received." Josiah Bartlet to the VFW at Nashua, NH, during the first campaign.

I remember Josh's last day-how clear it was-golden, rare and precious. We talked business, we talked politics, we talked family. He laughed a lot, I remember, smiling at Donna when she chided him for not eating his vegetables. After lunch he walked around the mill pond to his favorite spot and the Adirondack chair he'd moved there. Despite the sun he was chilly and he wore his Presidential windbreaker. I stayed with Donna in the kitchen, watching him from the window, where we talked about Bart, Noah, Kennedy, Moss and the Pixie. She asked about Abigail and Samuel, Toby and Andrea, Isaac, CJ and Will while washing dishes. After about an hour she slipped around the stone path to check on him. When she didn't return I followed and found her kneeling in front of him, her hand cupping his placid face. I paused a moment, laying my hand on her shoulder, before stepping to the phone to begin the business of burying a friend.

I remember his life, one I'm proud to have shared along with his other friends. I remember his children, his proudest achievement. I remember his wife, the missing piece of his soul. But, most of all, I remember the legacy he worked his entire life to leave to the world. Joshua Lyman, fortified by the love of friends and family despite tragedy and illness worked tirelessly to give the world the most precious gift he knew. He gave us hope.

Shalom, my friend.

Sam Seaborn, 2027