Cookies, Marines and Toys

The Marine Corps Reserve Unit in Forty Fort sits right on Wyoming Ave.  If you live in NEPA, you pretty much know that Wyoming Ave is the main drag to get you from Luzerne to Lackawanna counties, without using the interstate.  I have driven down that road so very many times, and each time, since March of 2007, the drive evokes apprehension, nausea and just an all over icky feeling.  It reminds me of that day in March, when my family was escorted into the gymnasium, when the vehicle carrying my brother's dead body pulled in; the day he came home. 

Today, well, today, I purposefully drove to the reserve unit, apprehensive, but full of spirit.  My girlfriends and fellow members of the MOMS club had a cookie exchange this morning, and each woman brought a new unwrapped toy to donate to Toys for Tots.  Last year, the Marines that served with my brother came to the meeting and collected the toys, but this year, they were unable to be there.  So, my girls and I delivered the donations to Forty Fort.  The Marines there were nice.  I said my brother's name and there was a sense of recognition that comforted me.  The girls gave them cookies and they were appreciative.  

The Gunnery Sgt was kind enough to take the girls to see the trucks that their uncle used to drive.  I, well, I stood back, taking it all in.  The sights and sounds.  The smells.  How they differed from that day.  How life continues on while he lies sleeping.  A strange feeling came over me.  It wasn't the feeling of loss that I anticipated, instead, it was a feeling of calm.  I knew that I was okay, that I am no longer suffering from the depression that my grief sent me into.  I felt calm, knowledgeable of my space, but in tune with the moment, the now.  I was given my brother's binder, a binder of documents and articles that pertain to Dennis.  I found comfort in knowing that they were there.

But, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.  I spoke frankly with the GSgt.  I told him of my disappointment, of my family's hurt at their hands. I shared with them the pain that they have caused my retired Marine father by failing to acknowledge my brother's death at any point after the 1st couple of months.  No one has yet to call or write to my parents, acknowledging Dennis's death.  He was the 1st and only Marine to have lost his life from that unit.  My father expected more.  He expected that Dennis would not be forgotten.  I have been assured that in March of 2012, my father will receive a call.  I hope that it won't have been "too long".

Thinking TAPS

This is a bit scary, but you'll just have to deal:  Today in the shower (okay, the scary part is over now), I got to thinking.  I think a lot in the shower. Sometimes, it's the only time I get to be alone.  Well, I got to thinking about my family and friends.  Today, October 25, would have been my brother's 25th birthday.  That's his 5th birthday since he was killed in Iraq, but I digress.  Anyway, my family and friends have been so kind, posting birthday wishes to him and warm thoughts for me and the rest of our family.  It got me thinking about my other friends that have suffered the loss of a sibling.

I can't actually fathom how many people I know that have lost a sibling.  One to drugs, one to cancer, one to a car accident, one to a fire, a motorcycle accident, medical mistake, suicide, and of course, due to war.  I can't even believe how many of us are out there, hurting. And then, I felt comforted to know that I am not alone, but even more comforted by the fact that T.A.P.S. is out there for family that have lost someone that was serving our country.  I've been so fortunate to meet others in my area and around the country that have felt the same things I have felt, and experienced the same reactions that I have.  What I mean is essentially this; because my brother was killed in a war, some people have felt compelled to share their political thoughts and views when offering their condolences.  I also sometimes feel as if my brother and his fellow fallen are used as game pieces in this world of politics in which we live.

All of this, though, is not where I was going with this.  What struck me was that I do have all these friends that have suffered the loss of a sibling, a sibling that was not in the military.  What organizations do they have?  I'm sure there are a few, but do any of them actually reach out to the survivors?  I'm not sure.   It did though, make me feel an extra bit of sadness for them.  Sadness that they may not have been able to find the camaraderie and support that I have been able to find.  A group of people that share their experiences (non-family members) in seminars, through the media, on-line, and over the phone.  I have been so fortunate to have found them and I now hurt for those that never got to experience that kind of love and support.

We have also been fortunate enough to know that others will always remember him, memorialized in monuments, newspapers, and the hearts of the enormous military family.  We know that many see him as a hero (though others don't, and that's okay, too), and that provides some comfort, occasionally.

I guess I just wanted to share:
a. how crappy it is to have lost a sibling
b. how fortunate I am to have found T.A.P.S
c. how I wish and hope there are organizations out there that reach out to others that have suffered a loss

10/25/1986 - 03/09/2007

For all of my friends that have lost a sibling, no matter what the cause: Thank you for being there to support me and know that I am always here for you as well.  I will never forget the love you have for your brother/sister.  May that love carry your through the hard days and make your happy days even better than imagined.

Reexamination of Memorial Day

The last several, I'd say 4 without breaking out the calendar and counting, Memorial Days have been quite strange for me.  Strange in the sense that they no longer just mean its a day off of work, full of BBQs and pools, but a day to honor and remember all of those that served our nation and never had the chance to return home to their loved ones.

Each Memorial Day, I write a status message and read others that remind people of the true meaning of the day: not shopping, BBQs, and time off of work, but our fallen service members.  Then, yesterday, I started to think of what has really been behind my status messages.  Was it really that I want to remind people of the true meaning or is it that I want their Memorial Day's to be as miserable as mine?  I mean, why should everyone else get to enjoy their days, sad thought free, while I pare down my fun and do the whole "parade followed by family BBQ at my parents' house" thing, instead of taking my kids out of town or going to a friends' house?!  Everyone else should have to adjust their plans too because I have had to adjust mine.  Right?!  Wrong!

And yesterday, I had an epiphany.  What a horrible reason for having ever typed those words into FB, or really for having thought that.  Yesterday, I realized that I don't feel that way anymore.  There is no reason for everyone, including me, to be miserable because its Memorial Day.  I mean, its not the only day of the year that I remember, love and miss my brother, so why give it that much hold on my life?!  Don't get me wrong.  I think its important to teach my children and others the true meaning behind the day, but that doesn't mean their worlds need to stop or change just because mine did in 2007.  Its a day to call special attention to the grave sacrifices that the military and their families have made to our great nation, to celebrate the honor and freedoms that have been afforded to us all, but celebrating doesn't mean moping around.  I know that if Dennis were still here, he'd be one of the first ones to smack us all for being so unhappy.  Well, he'd most likely do a little dance for us in his undies, not smack us, but that's his way.

So, yesterday, my status message read: this Memorial Day, please hug a Gold Star family member...with over 7000 service members killed in the last decade and the thousands from previous conflicts, I can't be the only one you know. loving and missing you, Dennis, today and always.  Okay, so its not the perfect status message, but I felt that it showed that this day is not just about me and my loss, but about the sacrifices of so many others.  And, more importantly, I didn't mope around the house yesterday because my brother is dead, but instead, enjoyed my time with my family.  Sure, the kids were all outside and I hibernated out of the heat, being 35 weeks pregnant and all, but I still enjoyed my time.  Of course, my brother and the countless other service members that our nation has lost, both before and after him, came to mind several times.  It wasn't, however, a somber woe is me kind of thought.  It was instead a proud to have the chance to have loved you and I will never forget, kind of thought.  


I think I'm getting there.  I think I'm getting to the point where I am letting my anger go. We will see in 4 weeks though, when we welcome #4 to our family, just how much I've moved forward these past 26 months.  


Only time heals a broken heart, and though some wounds will always leave a scar, this one, I wear proudly.  My heart will always hurt and show that pain, but the way it is displayed is changing, and for that,  I am grateful. 

Eyes wide

Today, okay, officially it was yesterday, but regardless, it was quite a day...eye opening.  I did some CASA work and my eyes were opened to the ways of the system.  I began to simplify my pantry (which for some reason also meant that I felt the need to paint it)...eye opening. And then, the kicker; my family was interviewed by a reporter, Carolyn Davis, from the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Its not the first time we've been interviewed for a story about losing a family member to war, but it was the most informative of them all.  Typically, the reporter will interview one person at a time, to get their story, but since she was running a little late, and we are a big family, Carolyn asked if it were okay to interview us as a group.  Sure, not a problem, I told her, but I warned that she may need to speak to my parents separately. Its not really because I thought it would be uncomfortable for us kids, but because my father has never really been open with us about how Dennis's death has affected him.  I mean, we can see that he is sad.  We can see that he's hurting, but that's it.  There's never any discussion about Dennis that ever involves my dad because he automatically gets up and leaves the room.

So, Carolyn starts the interview with my brothers, A and G, and myself.  The, mom joins in.  We must have been talking for 2 hours when my dad walked into the room, stopped, and then interjected.  I can't even tell you about what, but I can tell you that when I looked up and saw him sharing, I nearly fell over.  He shared some of the ways people and government officials have shown their appreciation, and then shared his views on "the rest".  I sat there, dumbfounded, wondering who this man was that was talking.  I mean, nothing he said surprised me.  It just shocked me that he was actually sharing.  And then, the question, "having served in the Marine Corps, how does it make you feel having lost your son in the Corps."  I have wondered the same thing so many times, like does that bring him comfort, anger, sadness, pride, what?  And there it was, the gentle dad that we rarely get to see.  He kindly just explained that he's not ready to share that yet.  Really, I don't know that he's got that answer yet.  Broke my heart.  But, for just a few moments, I felt like I had my daddy back.

Love you, Dennis! You are forever in our hearts, always on our minds.

Has anyone seen peace?

Its nearly midnight, I'm exhausted and laying on the couch.  Sick.  Why not go upstairs to bed?  Its quiet up there.  Down here, I have the noise of the TV to drown out my thoughts. Down here, I have the computer to distract me.  Up there, I have nothing but silence.

Almost 4 years ago, my baby brother was delivering medical supplies to an Iraqi Free Clinic when the tire he was sitting over hit an IED.  I will spare you from the visions of what ensued, but let's just say that he never came home. Wow. That is still hard to see in black and white.

I have been so blessed since then with meeting some amazing people.  At a birthday party for my son's friend, I sat at a 4 top and learned that only 1 of us did not have a sibling die.  So strange, as sibling loss made me feel so alone.  Yes, I have 4 other surviving siblings, but that's not what I mean.  I mean that people don't see your pain.  Instead, they see the pain of your parents, of your sibling's spouse/sig other, of his children. Of course, they are hurting and it is important to acknowledge their loss and pain, but ignoring my pain to focus on theirs was simply hurtful.

Then, you also lose a lot of your friends.  Its not because they don't care, but because death is a strange and horrible thing.  No one knows what to do, what to say.  Everyone just wants their old friend/loved one back.  They want to know how quickly their lives can get back to normal and the discomfort of your meetings can go away.

Now, I have many friends that have suffered the loss of a military loved one and many that have suffered the loss of a sibling.  While speaking with one of my close girlfriends who lost her brother 7 years ago, I came to a realization...I am still very pissed off.  I have not fully accepted that my brother is gone.  Yes, I know he is not coming home.  But, I feel as if there are still too many loose ends.

Namely, I have a nephew that I rarely see, that I love.  Death ruins a lot of relationships, and especially ones that are already strained.  This simply does not sit well with me.  I feel as if we, I, have let my brother down.  That I have let my nephew down.

I also have a hard time at family get-togethers when its so very apparent that he's not there.  And then, no one even speaks his name.  Is it because no one wants to see mom's eyes tear up?  Is it because no one wants to spoil dad's mood?  Is it that they don't want to think of the sad loss? Why can't we simply remember all of the hilarious things that made him who he was?  --- Too many questions.

And of course, it still angers me so deeply that some weenie jerk wanted to hurt someone that was trying to a. do their job and b. bring MEDICAL SUPPLIES.  You get that, right?  They weren't medical supplies for military.  They were medical supplies for Iraqi civilians.  What the hell is wrong with you people?! How does someone get so filled with hatred?!  I just don't understand, and I don't think that I have accepted that I never will understand.

My girlfriend "challenged" me (really, she just said that she was able to come to terms with her brother's death when she accepted it and got rid of the anger) to accept his death.  This is the way to "salvation".  Her recommendation: pray.  My sister's recommendation: pray.

Pray...what does that mean?  Of course,  I know what it means.  But, this Roman Catholic raised girl has struggled to "forgive" God.  My faith has been shaken.  If you simply chat with me, I will certainly speak affectionately of God.  I will offer my prayers.   This is not a show, but probably a sign of how I was raised.  The deep seeded belief and love I grew to have for God.

 But, when it comes time for me to truly reflect on God, I struggle.  Not only with the logistics of it all, that many people struggle with, but with how this being, that is supposed to be good and Omnipotent, could "allow" people to do the horrible things that they do.  Let's face it.  We all have the gift of selection, I know.  We choose what we do.  So, how then, can I accept that my brother's "work on Earth was done. He was called home to be with his Father?"  BS!  Some a**hole decided that the person in the truck was not worthy enough to live.  And these people often do this in the name of "allah" aka God.  Please, someone explain to me how anyone is then supposed to turn to God for comfort.

I want to move forward.  I want to accept his death.  I want to have a bad day that doesn't turn to a day of crying because I lost my brother.  I want to be a better mother, wife, daughter and friend than I am when I  am hurting.  I want to be able to sleep. I want to know my nephew.  So, how can I reconcile my broken faith with the loss of my brother?  How can I let go of the anger I have for this unknown coward and the people that put him in that situation?  How can I get the answers to my questions?  How can I find peace?

Grrr...miss you, D!