|Colin E. Lamb|
This has been a week of healing. The gentleman above was my husband's best friend. He was killed in Vietnam in 1968. When I met my husband, I knew there was a portion of his heart that I couldn't have, and that was reserved for Colin. I have tread lightly on the subject for the entire 35 years of our marriage. Each time we are in Idaho, we visit Colin's grave. Colin's mother died before I met my husband, but several times we went to visit his Dad, and later his Dad and his second wife. We would always have a nice visit, and when we would leave, there would be tears. Colin is now reunited with his parents, and the sweet stepmother he didn't know here on earth.
My son's middle name is Colin, and that had a healing quality for my husband. This week, however, came much bigger healing. Yesterday and today, we did some temple work for Colin and his family. Early next week, we will seal Colin to his parents and brother for time and all eternity.
Two wonderful things happened today with respect to this temple work. First, I had my own little epiphany. I have always felt sad for women who don't have the opportunity to marry in this life, and I frankly become irritated when I hear people say they'll have the opportunity in the next life. As I sat in the temple today doing work for Colin's mother, I thought about the thousands and thousands of young soldiers like Colin who never had the opportunity to marry before their earthly lives were cut short. I had such peace when I realized that there will be someone free for him.
On the drive home from the temple, my husband told me a story. I don't think he's ever told me this before, but it is possible that I have just forgotten. Danny doesn't talk much about Colin because his heart is too tender. He spent a good deal of time blaming himself because he's alive and Colin is dead. Danny was sent to Japan and later home because of a rare eye disease called kerataconis. Colin was sent to Vietnam. Today, though, he spoke about Colin with no tears whatsoever. I was fascinated by what I heard.
Colin was in ROTC at Texas A&M University. Upon graduation he planned to enlist in the military, but before he had a chance, another young man reported Colin to the draft board. The young man was sweet on the girl that Colin was planning to marry, and he wanted to get Colin out of the way. The young woman wanted to marry Colin before he left, but Colin said he wouldn't marry her until he came back. Colin never came back.
Obviously, I never met Colin. Indeed, I was 14 years old when Colin died in 1968, and I didn't marry my husband until the end of 1976, but I feel like I know him. I've never heard one bad thing about him from anyone who knew him. As I sit here today, thinking about a few special women I know who have never been married, I can't help wondering who will someday be blessed with Colin.
I'm excited to do the sealings next week. I'm happy for Colin's family, but also for Danny. After all this time, maybe he can now have a little peace.