“There is nothing like it for morale, to be reminded that the years are passing—ever more quickly—and that bits are beginning to drop off the ancient frame. But it is nice to be remembered at all. — Prince Phillip (1921-2021)

Editor-In-Chief, Chester “Trip” Buckenmaier III, MD, COL (ret.), MC, USA

I found this comment from Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, compelling as the English royal family faced Philip’s death on April 9, 2021, at age 99. His passing might have hardly been noticed by me beyond my respect for his service to the UK and what he represents for America’s closest ally. Sadly, though, the event was poignant for me personally as I recently lost my own father, Chet Buckenmaier, unexpectedly just a few weeks ago. The Buckenmaier family is undoubtedly not royalty, and our family history, although spicy (ask me over a beer sometime), is not the stuff of international news. Nevertheless, the parallels I see as the royal family deal with Philip’s death and my own families’ tribulations regarding my father’s passing are remarkable.

Prince or pauper, rich or poor, historical figure or footnote, we all achieve parity in death. The trials and distresses of life on this planet are no longer Philip’s or my father’s concern. Neither has any further say in their respective families’ business beyond the instructions they might have left behind. The trauma of their deaths is not for them to bear. That is what remains for the loved ones they left behind. I have absolutely no insight into the royal family. Still, I can empathize with the bereavement Queen Elizabeth II must be feeling at the loss of a life partner, as I am experiencing this trauma while helping my own mother wade through the grieving process.

Both the Buckenmaier family and the royal family have a history of service to the country. Both Chet and Philip served and defended their respective countries through careers in military service, but the similarities between the two families end abruptly there—in life. The chasm of difference between our two families’ life experiences boggles the mind in our day-to-day lives. I find it interesting and strangely comforting that this chasm dissolves in the uncompromising reality of the death of a loved one. Death truly is the great equalizer.

As Philip points out, it is nice to be remembered. Perhaps the mark of well-lived life is when those who go on living take time out of their incredibly short existence to reminisce about those who have passed. Though unexpected, my father’s death was swift, at home and with my mother by his side. I can only hope for similar circumstances when my own end comes. His thoughts were on the future, having just bought a new car and a new suit to wear for his first granddaughter’s wedding. He will be buried in that suit at Arlington National Cemetery, as was his wish. A police officer who remained at my mother’s home while the emergency services personnel attempted to revive my father noticed the pictures and paraphernalia of my father’s Air Force career, which in large part was consumed working on the venerated B-1 bomber. Photos of the B-1 adorned the office walls where he died. The officer commented to my mother how the B-1 had saved his combat unit multiple times during his Afghanistan military service. My father would have taken such pride and joy from that comment. I have taken considerable comfort from the officer’s observation.

One of the most significant last gifts my father gave the family was clear instructions on his desires and contacts upon his death. I understand Philip did the same. Both men, I think, understood that death itself is “lighter than a feather,” according to an 1882 Japanese Imperial Rescript to sailors and soldiers. It is those left behind who bear the burden of death that can be heavier than a mountain. It is the gift of memories that the dead leave behind that provides a balm for the pain of loss. I am sad for the loss of my father but so much more grateful that the memories he leaves behind are worth remembering. My father’s life was well-lived and worth emulating. I think the royal family can say the same for Philip. In this regard, if no other, the Buckenmaier family and the royal family are equals.

There is no lesson this month. No medical or federal medicine rant. Just a reminder that all you leave behind when you pass is memories. Like my father and Prince Philip, I hope I will be worthy of being remembered.