Dear Editor,
Though I am related to Jeramy, I barely knew him. I was really
only a part of the first few years of his life, yet his death has
touched me in a way I never expected it to.
Dear Editor,
Though I am related to Jeramy, I barely knew him. I was really only a part of the first few years of his life, yet his death has touched me in a way I never expected it to. Knowing that my brother, Brian Davis (Jeramy’s birth father), has lost his only son, coupled with the fact that I am currently in Indonesia and unable to return home for the funeral service has made this entire thing more heavy for me.
Yet at the same time, as I read what others who knew Jeramy well have said about him, I realize that the little boy I knew grew into a very fine young man.
The last time I saw Jeramy, he was just a little boy, probably only a few years old. He was always smiling and very inquisitive (some might call it mischevious, but as a teacher, I see it as a more positive thing for a young child). We were in my mother’s car, headed somewhere I don’t even recall and Jeramy wanted to know what every little button in the car did. He was in the front seat and played with the radio, air conditioning, and any other controls he could reach. Eventually he got around to pressing the button that controlled the wiper fluid. Jeramy was amazed when the fluid shot out onto the windshield and the wipers began doing their job. There was a brief instant when my mother’s driving was disrupted, but when she was back in control, everyone else in the car was laughing. This must have pleased Jeramy because he continued pressing the wiper fluid button and looking around to see if everyone was laughing. He did this until the wiper fluid ran out, all the while making sure that everyone was enjoying his antics.
As I have read the stories of the things Jeramy did in school and then in Iraq to bring joy to the lives of the people there, I have realized just how wonderful a person my nephew was. He fought as a Marine because his conscience told him to, but he helped the people of Iraq (financially and with soccer balls) because he wanted them to be not only free but happy.
That seems to come through more than anything, that Jeramy simply wanted people to be happy.
At this moment I am thousands of miles away and unable to return home to take part in what I hope will be a celebration of Jeramy’s life. My prayers are these: that his mother, Lana, will be able to carry on, as her son would want her to; that his sister, Janay (my niece), will find comfort in the memories she has of such a wonderful brother; that Joel and his other sisters will also find comfort in this chaotic time; and that his father, Brian, will find strength in the knowledge that such a wonderful young man was a part of this world because of him.
I also pray that the kind of compassion Jeramy showed for the people he fought for will spill over into the hearts of all the men and women who still fight for the same cause Jeramy did, and that they will be able to return home to their families.
To all of you who knew Jeramy, take comfort in this. Jeramy, through his actions, has shown that he exemplifies one of the greatest principles ever set forth for mankind to fulfill. “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13) Jeramy may not have ever said that the Iraqis were his friends, but we are all related (in the grand scheme of life) and he showed that even war could not make him hate people.
My thoughts and prayers are with all of Jeramy’s family. Stay strong. Time may not diminish the loss, but it does heal wounds and the pain will subside to a point where memories bring only joy.
Terri Davis
