FLAGS REMAIN AT HALF STAFF
Official Period of Mourning Ends
(March 12, NY, NY) We have not been here for awhile. Our absence was circumstance driven initially, intentional thereafter. The Brooding Cynyx suffered a great loss last week when one of our own, actually, the original driving force who established are “Mission” passed away on the third of March. He had taken a terrible fall down a flight of stairs on February 16, was admitted to the Critical Care Unit and never left the building alive.
In the wake of his death, the Cynyx, collectively, decided to cease posting for a period of mourning. Out of respect for our newly deceased Cynyc Emeritus, we felt it would be inappropriate to engage in our usual activities, the time and efforts associated with bringing our loyal readers the quality of news, commentary, satire and observations that you have come to expect and most certainly deserve.
Yes, some said that our Emeritus would not have wanted us to cease posting. After all, it was by his mandate we began doing that which we do. However, the profound nature of the loss warranted a powerful gesture here, on this blog, to mark his passing.
His unremarkable death belied his remarkable life. Among many accomplishments of a Marine Corps veteran, a blue collar worker, husband, father and friend were the things he gave to so many. By example he taught; he taught all those things that no school could ever begin to teach. He taught the intangibles and he taught them well.
He taught a full advanced curriculum in character, integrity, honesty and strength. The core courses included powerful lessons about sacrifice, tolerance, patience and humility. By his living example the education he provided was on-going until he expired that one last time and the cardiac monitor went monotone. Pride and dignity were demonstrated daily in his life and most certainly in his death: A Marine to the end. The lessons he learned as a 19 year old on Parris Island added to the inherent traits and strengths his by birth, by time and place.
Possessed of a child like faith of the highest order, parts of his life were more than tests of that faith. If there ever was the proverbial “hard luck guy”, it was him. But, despite circumstances and choices, playing a poorly dealt hand, he was also an original “Stand Up Guy”. He carried his load with a quiet strength and grace that put him in a class of his own. If he had a temper, it was so rarely in evidence that one could be forgiven for seeing him as passive. That would have been an error. He was anything but passive; his “uncommon valor” was his most remarkable virtue.
He and his generation have received their due justice in recent years thanks to popular books and films depicting the major events from the Great depression, World War II through the sixties and seventies. He was part of it all, one among millions yet, recognized for his uniqueness even by his peers.
He passed quietly into what lies beyond. He stepped lightly along that ill defined line until he felt the time was right. Called home, released from his earthly burdens, he will always remain.
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