I note with sadness the news of Colonel Cooper's passing . . . but it's not really sadness. More of a personal loss, and even that is temporary.
I've said before that the only reason I'm alive today is his teaching, even if at second- or third-hand. I guess a part of him lives on in me, and in everyone like me who's 'seen the elephant' and come out alive because of his teachings. The same goes for all those of us who haven't yet had to apply them the hard way, but are prepared to do so if needed.
The Colonel is not dead. His body is at peace, at last . . . but his soul lives on, both here on Earth in all of us who revered him, and, please God, in the happy hereafter, where he's doubtless looking at all the shootin' buddies who preceded him and asking them, "How the heck did YOU end up here?" (or words to that effect!). I also think with pleasure of the wartime comrades he's greeting again, and I trust the Heavenly beer is better stuff than the dishwater everyone complained about in WW2!
Don't mourn Colonel Cooper. Rejoice that he lived! Be happy that he has no more pain. May he keep open a place on the line for us! (I wonder if there's a Heavenly version of the Donga?)
