For the last thirty-six hours, I’ve been thinking about Charlie Kirk and his family. Not on the hunt for his killer, but on Charlie himself. Charlie smiling as he greeted someone at a rally, the faint echo of his words when he was done speaking, his daughter jumping into his lap for a hug, his courage in the face of adversity.
Yesterday, Charlie flew home to Phoenix on Air Force 2. His family was with him, as were Vice-President Vance and his wife, Usha. After landing, J.D. Vance and a group of at least half a dozen dignified soldiers escorted Charlie off the plane. Usha held hands with Charlie’s wife, Erika, as they walked down the aircraft’s boarding stairs. Erika was a widow now.
Charlie was put in a hearse for his last ride down an Arizona highway, visible from a live news feed provided by a traffic copter.
I want to sleep, but it’s hard to do with these images in my mind.
I ignored preferred pronouns before, but after this, no one had better ask. Those days are over.
An imagined letter from Charlie to us.
Letter from Charlie
Dear brothers and sisters,
I address to you my love,
my existence, my change of form,
the distribution of my constituents.
Do not grieve for me.
The energy which I once generated
I have transformed to another form of potency,
unrevealed to me,
but imbued in you,
unknowingly.
Yesterday I lived in sentience,
today I live in transcendence,
concealed from you.
I will not remember me,
nor will I acknowledge you.
You will look and not see me,
for I shall already be
that state of being
which we,
each night,
practice when we sleep.
A martyr in the battle of good vs. evil God Bless him and his family may he rest in eternal peace!