This mortal coil

The past few days have seen me sick enough that I had to not work. I hate calling out. It inconveniences everyone else at work and it can produce a streak of ill will and doubt and it’s just too much crap to deal with. But when I’m this sick, I’m this sick. I spent most of my day in bed napping and reading a book in between naps.

While I’ve wanted to stay from political blogging in general, and particularly, election blogging, I stopped by Instapundit just to see how things are going on his side of the web. So, a quick read here, a quick click-through there and nothing really worth devoting much time over in my state of weakness, until… There. So short, so grim, Andrew Olmstead, blogger, Army man, patriot, has passed away. What Glenn Reynolds links to in the wake of the news is nothing short of the most amazing, most poignant, and perhaps most important farewell letter written by a man who knew his time was to come ahead of most.

What it is is the sword of Alexander cutting through the Gordian Knot that is political discourse in our day and age.

What it is is a persistent message that when it comes down to it, deeds count over words.

What it is the most is, if you could read through to the end without tears clouding your eyes, is a message of love. Because after all is said of the politics and the war and the duty and all that, at the end is a message to his wife. And that is where I broke down.

Sunset over the Severn River

The sun sets over the Severn River.
In Memory of Andrew Olmsted.

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