Sun Englewood
November 22, 2021A Letter Written By A Light From A Window
February 16, 2022Greetings Readers,
I hope you are doing well as you walk, march, hike, swim, RUN and even SKYDIVE your way into this new year! I want to start out by saying CONGRATULATIONS to Nels on his successful completion of the Skydive Ultra! What a remarkable challenge and accomplishment. With Denise by his side, I have no doubt the healing and recovery process will be on point.
I have struggled with a new post, certainly not because of ideas – there is a constant stream of those in my brain, which never seems to shut down and goes in many directions. The challenge for me is how much, and what, do I share? As anyone with siblings knows, these relationships span a lifetime, literally – for better or worse. Chris is the youngest member of our family and was always going to be around. Now that he’s “gone”, I hold our memories together, close to my heart. But, I want you to know him, from my perspective – that of a sister who misses her brother more than words can convey. To me, he was so much more than a SEAL. He was the infant I held close under our mother’s watchful care, he was the little boy constantly in my things and the teenager that got on my nerves, and then we both grew up. He became my confidant, my cheerleader, and wherever he was in the world, I knew he had my back.
As I move forward with these posts, I’m going to be very open with you. This defies who I have chosen to be throughout my life, and it’s scary. Since this blog will be about my brother and our shared journey, I believe you need to know a bit about me first. I’m not on social media, for many reasons. I held onto my flip phone a decade (or more) longer than most. I didn’t have a television for a long while. When a friend moved to L.A. and couldn’t sell hers and was anxious about getting rid of her t.v., I bought it, and it sat in my living room for quite some time before being connected. Books have been my friends since I was a kid. They provide an opportunity for me to consider new and old ideas and others perspectives, without “noise”. Due to my inquisitive nature, nonfiction is my preference. Almost two decades ago a friend picked me up from the airport. Her young children had come along for the ride, and after a round of questions to them, one of them said, “Aunt Cindy, why do you ask so many questions?”. My response was, “because I’m interested in your life and care for you”. That was my first indication I had a “problem”. Children are great observers and happily point out oddities in others, with no judgement or malice intended. Their inquisitive innocence is incredible! I’ve told many friends my middle name should have been, “Why?”. So, where am I going with this?
When my brother, Chris, was killed, I didn’t ask why, but why not? Please do not misinterpret this as a lack of caring! My grief journey has been gut-wrenching, the process painfully lonely and ugly. Grief is solitary work and beyond hard. For some reason, the way my brain works, after my initial shock, I became very linear and curious about death. Yes, Chris was in the military, but in my mind, due to his line of work – death during service was not a consideration with all of his training. We had just spoken three weeks prior to his crash, and he had plans. He was going back to school and told me he was going to transition into more of an administrative role so he could spend time at home and was going to be present for the first time for his daughter’s birthday (she was going to be 15!). Chris said after he retired he was considering a move to Colorado (IF, he could leave the beach). At 36, he was in the prime of his life. Chris was almost five years younger than me, and this was NOT part of my life plan. There was a big front porch with rocking chairs in our future. For years, I couldn’t accept he wasn’t coming home. So, what did I do? I sought out and bought books on loss, grief and death at used book stores, thrift stores, and even libraries (many have donated books they resell for minimal cost). I’m frugal because of our upbringing, but this process also provided for divine guidance to the books meant for me. I understand this can be perceived as crazy; I’ve become okay with being defined that way and am comfortable taking the road “less traveled by”. Did my reading make me ok with my brother’s death? No, not at all. I’ll miss him everyday for the rest of my life! The books did provide insight into topics few are prepared to discuss out loud, and for me, that was invaluable.
On this silent path of discovery, I learned that dying and living are partners. Living is something Chris did well! He lived his life to the fullest and marched to the rhetorical beat of his own drum. Shortly after Chris was born, the Dr. told my mom, “he hasn’t stopped moving”. And, he never did! When he was a little guy, my mom received regular calls from the school or neighbors because he had yet another scrape, cut, or bruise often accompanied by a fall which resulted in frequent trips to the Dr.’s office. The plea, “Christopher, be careful” went unheard. I can only imagine the things he and his high school buddies got into during their teenage years. With four guys as best pals, I’m sure the stories are endless! One Chris shared with me was a time he was riding his motorcycle in the early hours of the morning, with a buddy behind him in a truck. While waiting for the light to turn, Chris got very sleepy. I’m sure the nightly “activities” contributed to his momentary slumber which he remembered ending with a slow-motion tilt all the way to the ground. Thank goodness the roads were empty, and he and his buddy made it home safely after they were able to get the bike upright. Even when Chris told me about this years after the incident I couldn’t refrain from a bit of scolding and ending with being thankful no one was hurt. When Chris’ dream of being a professional baseball player was crushed, he wrestled with that loss and then found another challenge. He received training in so many climates and terrains during his career in the Navy. I remember telling him one time that his “training” sounded more like an opportunity for play with “big boy toys”. However, in his line of work, preparation for any scenario was essential and undertaken with precision. Yet, Chris didn’t always succeed initially. In one particular training course, he failed. This did not deter him! His own words were, “I have to study and practice most of the night… very miserable. But, I shall succeed”.
One of my favorite pictures of my brother (taken by a dear girlfriend) was when he was about 20 years old. He had long hair, was shirtless and standing in a field of flowers with his arms wide open taking in the moment, embracing life and all it offered. He was fearless in his approach toward living! You might not be fearless like Chris, and you might not go skydiving and then run a 100 miles or train to break a Guinness Record like Nels as he seeks to raise awareness for my brother’s request that 100,000 people donate to Wounded Warrior Project. But, you CAN make a positive difference in this world. There are so many causes where volunteers are desperately needed! My mother provided an excellent example that sitting on the sidelines is not optional when so many need help. Living a life of service to others, whether two or four-legged, is where one finds meaning. Are you seeking happiness? If that is your goal, you might find it to be elusive. I believe happiness is a direct outcome of living a life with purpose. Don’t just be good – do good, and in that you will find joy and contentment. Although a different context, the last two lines of the song, Knee Deep (Zac Brown Band), are fitting: when you lose yourself, you find the key to paradise. An hour a week of positive and action-oriented work towards a worthy cause can provide another hope, and that’s your key to a happy life. Paradise is waiting!
Soon,
Cindy
Proud Sister of Christopher George Campbell, US Navy
September 16, 1974 – 8/6/11
“The greatest casualty is being forgotten” – WWP