Thinking Out Loud, Volume CD II

It was General Douglas MacArthur who uttered those famous words, "Old soldiers never die, they just fade away." Well, for the last few days, we have watched one of those old soldiers fade. At the moment he was inducted into the United States Navy during World War II, he became a soldier, and he remained a soldier until he took his final breath late Wednesday night. Not only was he a soldier fighting for our freedom, but he also became what is commonly known as a "soldier of the Cross" as a licensed minister of the Gospel. During the last few years of his life, he served as the chaplain for the Louisiana Vietnam Veterans Association. He was the most avid reader of my weekly writings, and he would occasionally send one of the columns to be printed in a Veterans' quarterly publication. This man was my father-in-law, Elliot Fontenot. Even at age ninety-one, he would often dress up in his Navy uniform and drive to a cemetery where he would participate in the funeral of a veteran, playing "Taps" on the bugle, offering a prayer, and presenting a flag to the family of the deceased. The wall in his home is adorned with certificates, plaques, and trophies honoring him for his service to our veterans. We have a picture from the newspaper of him being congratulated and and thanked for his service by Governor Bobby Jindal. To merely say that he was a great man and will be greatly missed would be a vast understatement. Not only was he a great dad to Angie and her brother and sister, he was an awesome grandfather (Pawpaw) to his grandchildren. When my kids or any of their cousins hear words from the "Twenty-third Psalms," their minds automatically go back to their childhood days when he taught each of them to quote the entire chapter. He was a man's man, yet he had the ability to be tough and tender at the same time. All three of of his kids and all of his grandchildren have an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ, and that legacy is one he wouldn't have traded for all the world. I would be remiss if I didn't mention his relationship with his four brothers, three of whom were also veterans. (There was one other brother, also a veteran, who died soon after World War II, and the one who is not a veteran wanted to join the military, but their mother refused to allow it.) They all look alike, and I have fond memories of sitting on the back patio listening to them talk of old times, although I may not have understood all they said because they kept shifting back and forth between English and Cajun French. (He didn't learn English until he started school.) Cajun French was his first language, and much of his preaching was to elderly people who were not proficient in English. He was also a poet, and he wrote a poem about each of his kids and each of his grandchildren. On Christmas Eve, 2001, he lost the love of his life when his wife of more than fifty years went to be with The Lord. He recently wrote a poem about her and how he's getting ready to join her again. Just three weeks ago when my daughter, Valerie, had gone to visit him, he sang the words to that poem, and she captured it on video. What a treasure!! Today, he and "his love" are in each other's arms again...a joyful reunion! Yes, today we are grieving, but our tears are not for him, they are for ourselves, because he has finally reached that goal he has strived so long to attain. I believe if he had the chance to come back, he would say, "No, please don't ask me to return. Why don't you come join me where I am!" What a life! What a legacy! What a man! What a vacancy he has left! What a great day it will be when we see him again!! Until then..... Preston