(The Atlantic)
Distinguished guests, including our presidents and first ladies, government officials, foreign dignitaries, and friends, Jeb, Neil, Marvin, Doro, and I, and our families, thank you all for being here.
I once heard it said of man that the idea is to die young, as late as possible. At age 85, a favorite pastime of George H. W. Bush was firing up his boat, the Fidelity, and opening up the three 300-horsepower engines to fly, joyfully fly across the Atlantic, with the Secret Service boats straining to keep up. At age 90, George H. W. Bush parachuted out of an aircraft and landed on the grounds of St. Ann’s by the Sea in Kennebunkport, Maine, the church where his mom was married and where he worshipped often. Mother liked to say he chose the location just in case the chute didn’t open. In his 90s, he took great delight when his closest pal, James A. Baker, smuggled a bottle of Grey Goose vodka into his hospital room. Apparently it paired well with the steak Baker had delivered from Morton’s.
To his very last days, Dad’s life was instructive. As he aged, he taught us how to grow with dignity, humor, and kindness. And when the good Lord finally called, how to meet him with courage and with the joy of the promise of what lies ahead. One reason Dad knew how to die young is that he almost did it, twice. When he was a teenager, a staph infection nearly took his life. A few years later, he was alone in the Pacific on a life raft, praying that his rescuers would find him before the enemy did. God answered those prayers. It turned out he had other plans for George H. W. Bush. For Dad’s part, I think those brushes with death made him cherish the gift of life. And he vowed to live every day to the fullest. Read more