A Man I Never Knew

This year the birthday of my son-in-law, Grant, falls on Memorial Day.  And this makes me think of him in a special way.
 
Thoughts of him make me think of his father, the late Captain Charles Kelly Castleberry and, really, all those who have served our country.
 
I had heard Captain Castleberry’s story when we first moved to Beaufort back in 1990.  Our family had moved to this military town because Community Bible Church had asked my husband to take the position of senior pastor.
 
Everyone in our church had been affected by the death of this Marine.  The mid-air collision off the coast of South Carolina that took his life had happened just four short years before we came.  The story was still fresh.
 
I remember hearing about their family, about the waiting when they were searching for him in the water, about finally realizing he was gone, and then I remember hearing about the funeral.
 
I heard how meaningful, touching, and sad, but also refreshing was the story of Kelly Castleberry.  See, I was told that this little family loved the Lord.  I was told that Captain Castleberry was not only one of the few and the proud in the Marine Corps, he was also one of the few and proud who knew Jesus Christ.  

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Visiting a cemetery – any cemetery – is sobering.  We walk among the graves and realize that one day there will be a headstone for us.
 
I think about that as I sometimes visit and put fresh orchids at the headstone of this man I never knew.  The little orchids seem so small but still I place them there and I think maybe I should put larger ones.  But there they stand – next to his marker – delicate, yet honoring this man’s life.
 
Each time I go, I linger.  I pray for my son-in-law.  I pray for my daughter.  I pray for their children.

I think about life.  It matters how we live it.  It matters what we stand for.  It matters how we invest it.  Our legacy matters.
 
I never knew this man.  
 
Sometimes I have stood alone at the headstone of a man I never knew.  Other times I'm with my husband my children and grandchildren. But when I am alone, I somehow, in my small insignificant way, want to honor his memory.
 
I gaze at the oak trees just behind his marker – the sun  filtering through the Spanish moss –  late in the day.  It's beautiful.
 
Then I stare beyond his gravestone.
 
Once when I visited back in 2013, when Grant Castleberry's birthday was on Memorial Day as well, I remember seeing a man sitting on a bench with his head down.
 
I saw another man cleaning a headstone.
 
I saw a young woman holding the hand of a little boy lingering at another grave marker.
 
And I thought, this is such a sacred place.
 
Back then, I looked again at Captain Castleberry’s headstone and I thanked God for his life as tears ran down my face.  I thanked God for his widow who placed her trust in the sovereignty of God.  I thanked God for the man who eventually married her and helped raise her boy as his own.
 
And then, I thanked God for that boy.  That boy is now part of my life.  
 
"No, Captain Castleberry, you didn’t get to see your boy grow up.  But my, what an impact you had in his young life.  You left a legacy.  From what I've been told, you were always faithful.
 
I never knew you, Captain Castleberry, but I know your son.  You would be so proud of both the husband and the father he has become.  And Carl and I know you would love our daughter.  You’d be so happy that she is the one helping your son and raising your grandchildren.  Your boy is following in your footsteps.
 
So I thank you, Captain Castleberry.  Semper Fi."
 
~ From a mother you never knew
Audrey Broggi

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www.audreybroggi.com

"You are the light of the world, a city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does one light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.  Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father Who is in heaven."