Remembering Bobby Thompson

am 60 years old and remember Bobby as clearly as if we had just bumped into each other when we were about 16. We used to swim together but not very seriously; just kind of goofing off. He came from a large family and everyone liked him. He had the most natural and easy smile. When he came to dinner he was polite to a fault toward my parents. Time passed. I entered the navy and we lost touch with each other. I was home on a leave and heard that he had stepped on a mine and, in an instant, was gone. Talk about the feeling that someone had just pushed a dagger through you. It simply seemed like a mistake; someone so full of life and loving it so much and so naturally couldn't be gone. But he was. Alot has happened in my life since then but I always think about him. And it's not when something related to the Wall in DC or to VietNam comes into the news. No, I always think about when I look at my 18 year old daughter or someone else Bobby's age when we were teens. That's exactly how I remember him. I can only hope his passing was quick as a flash so that he left this early loving life as fully as he did so that he didn't have time to think about death. I don't think I've ever stopped grieving about him; he's a part of me, a part of my life, my adolescence. At times I'm saddened that I couldn't have taken his place; that he deserved life more than I have. Can't answer this question. I'm not God. I'm blessed and graced to have known him and, again, his memory grows sharper and clearer as the years pass. Rest in peace, Bobby.