Death has a way of making us all stop and think about life.

The death of a president causes such a pause in the life of a nation. Perhaps more so in America, because we are still relatively new and therefore any of the 45 people who have had the honor to be our president is special to us in the end, regardless of politics.

Our founders thought long and hard about what the office of president should be. George Washington resisted the role, and then defined it. When it was over he went back to his beloved Mount Vernon, to farm and live a quiet life with his family. He wished his successor well, but did not endeavor to overshadow, and laid the foundation for the peaceful transition of power that is the hallmark of our enduring democracy.

Here, anyone can become president. We’ve had haberdashers, generals, lawyers, peanut farmers, community organizers and a real estate developer, to name a few.
But perhaps no one had a better resume than George H.W. Bush. He was educated at the nation’s finest schools, made his way in the Texas oil business, became the head of the RNC, UN ambassador and director of the CIA, before becoming vice president and then our 41st president.

Our relationship with presidents is often like that of a teenager and parent. He’s our leader, but sometimes we rail against his decisions for us. We push back at times to make sure he knows who’s boss. We joke about him on late night television and in cartoons – poking at his weaknesses and shortcomings. But generally when the outside world tries to do the same, we rally ‘round. And as we get older, we see the wisdom and love that we missed as teenagers.

So it is right that his death makes us pause and sit in this moment for a while as a nation. We should think about his life of humility and success. We are still a young nation, and only 45 have held the office we elect them to for a brief moment in time. May 41 inspire us all.

George H.W. Bush’s time with us was like that. He got roughed up a bit for “being out of touch” when he appeared to be unfamiliar with the price scanner at the grocery store (he wasn’t, but it was portrayed that way at the time). His focus on Panama and Iraq played to his foreign policy strengths and experience, but when it came time for re-election, the nation seemed to feel he had missed the effects of the lagging economy. The young man from Hope seemed to “feel our pain.”

But we learned over time that 41 was a man who was uniquely attuned to the lives of others, that he reached out and touched so many lives along the way with his eloquent letters and surprising friendships. We learned the depth of his love for his son, our 43rd president, and we watched him tear up at times as he felt, as only he could, the strain of watching over him from a distance as he took on the burdens of the Oval Office.

We saw the intensity of the lifelong love of George and Barbara Bush. He revealed that each night they argued about who loved the other more and then they would pray together and count their blessings. They were optimistic about life and had a zest for it, even though they had lost a child – a loss that can take even the strongest parents down. We watched him as he taught us the lessons of aging and disease. He jumped from airplanes, saying he wanted everyone to see that even when you get old, you can still have a thrill, take a risk! As his Parkinson’s set in, he did not shy away from us. He welcomed President Obama on the tarmac from his wheelchair. He flipped the coin at the Super Bowl, and then voted from that wheelchair, just weeks before leaving this earth.

He was, in retrospect, “a thousand points of light” – and we may not see the likes of him again. A hero, a family man, a man of faith in God, a president of the United States.

So it is right that his death makes us pause and sit in this moment for a while as a nation. We should think about his life of humility and success. We are still a young nation, and only 45 have held the office we elect them to for a brief moment in time. May 41 inspire us all.