A lasting Tribute To Jack Costello and To His Family

Remembering the past, once shared; celebrating a life, once lived; and grieving the loss. No small feat for the living, left behind. All these emotions, pulling in opposite directions, on a soul, in a single day.

It was a beautiful military ceremony. A former General and company executive, beloved and well liked, who left us too soon at a young age of 63. Jack Costello was an outstanding individual with an exceptional life, as attested by the aura of the ceremony which brought together people from all paths, that Jack walked.

There were former Chief of Staffs, Generals, and CEOs, but I was not aware of their presence because we all moved together like a rippling stream flowing along a well worn path, through the chapel to the cemetery. Through our connective souls, we were mindful of each other, as we hugged with soft smiling eyes; reflecting the thoughts of those sweet moments we were together, when he was still alive.
Jack's wife, Micki, and his children were comforting others, instead of being comforted, creating an atmosphere of dignity to reflect the way he lead his life.

Jack always made it easy for others, to talk to him. Everyone I knew always said nice things about Jack.  A person who had a desire to continuously learn. I see that in his wife, Micki. Taking college classes, increasing her knowledge. She also is such a strength of character. I saw it when she called out to me in the hallway, the day of the funeral. Coming towards me, being so strong on that day, with a smile and a bear hug.
I know it will be hard, going forward for her and her children. I cannot imagine what that emptiness feels like.

In the silence of the chapel, Jack's first and only grandchild, baby Samantha's cooing sounded more like musical notes to our ears throughout the ceremony. Clearly she saw the Light and heard her grandfather's encouraging words, just for her.  She is the joy and the future, he will leave behind to celebrate his life.

As we walked up the hill toward the gathering of family and friends surrounding the casket, draped with the American flag, the military band stood on the hillside above.  The American flag lying in position, waiting to be folded and handed to Micki.

There were soldiers standing in the freezing snow; waiting for their cue to salute a comrade-in-arms with the customary 21 gun and 15 cannon fire. A moment of disarming of weapons; a sign of trust.

The gravesite was a high point, on the grounds, overlooking the

convex and concave curves in the land; manicured with rows of decorated white, uniform tombs with red ribboned, dark green wreaths.
The sound of a lone bagpiper playing Amazing Grace reminding us of our sins and forgiveness.
The sound of Taps piercing the chilly air resounding the finality.

As the crowd started moving away from the gravesite, I could see Micki walking away from the comfortable path to home. She walked to the higher, icier hillside where the bagpiper, a young woman, was standing, coatless, in the freezing air.
When she reached her, she hugged and thanked her. I could not hear the words, but her courage to comfort and thank this one soul was apparent; as the crowd, below, grew small and insignificant.

At the Arlington cemetery, among the many white tombstones of fallen soldiers,
Jack Costello was laid to rest. He will be remembered affectionately.