This week has been a time of reflection of the events that happened after Curtis' death and leading up to the funeral. Some, of course, are sad and difficult, but one display of support stands out. The young ladies that traveled here from Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii to support their friend, Katie.
Throughout their husbands deployment, these woman banded together to laugh, cry and support each other. Like any time of stress, there was also a bit of drama involved, and I would at times be an ear for Katie to vent. But overall they were each others rocks.
The week following Curtis' death, they started showing up at our house to show their support. I wondered what was going through their minds. What strong woman to be able to be here, when this could easily be them in this position, and at the same time their husbands were still in Afghanistan fighting. They were wonderful to have around, the stories they could tell, the help they wanted to lend, no wonder some of our finest young men wanted them for their wives. I'm not sure who started it, but to us they became the 'Housewives of K-Bay' What they had gone through is certainly fitting for reality TV.
Thank you Kelsey, Kelly, Leah, Veronica and any of the other housewives here in spirit, I love you all. You are some of the strongest young ladies I know.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
1st Anniversary
Leading up to this important date was tough. We had many phone calls all week wondering what we had planned for the first anniversary of Curtis' death. We decided in the last week what we were going to do. Dave was making a small memorial that he wanted to place at the Soldiers Field Memorial Wall, which Curtis' name is on, then we would head to the Hamm Lake VFW, where the Tribute to the Troops group was meeting, to be with some other Gold Star Families as well as some great patriots.
The gathering at the wall was going to be just a few people who we felt have been there for us over the last year. As the week passed, a few more were invited. We gathered at our house to caravan to the wall. As we approched the downtown fire station, I could see the fire engine out with it's lights on. I didn't know this was for us. As we turned the corner, we were overwhelmed by the sight, the VFW color guard, the hook and ladder truck with the flag on top of the ladder, the police cars lined up with the drivers respectfully saluting, and the many citizens waving flags lined up for the next two blocks to our next turn. Dave recalls almost tipping the bike over he was so shocked by the sight. I could only wave and mouth "Thank you" as I drove passed them.
As we approched the wall, there were around 30 Patriot Guard, without their flags because this was not a true mission, along with some very important people in our lives that lined the sidewalk to the wall. I was stunned. My only thought was to hug every one of them, and I did just that. There wasn't a program planned, but we placed the memorial Dave made, and had Michael, our church youth director and great mentor to Curtis, say a prayer. After we made a few comments of graditude, a couple of our guests presented us gifts. I guess it was a program after all. We then made our way to the VFW to raise a toast to Curtis, all the fallen, all who are still fighting, the Vets and their families.
The visit to Hamm Lake was just as moving and uplifting. How far we have come in a year. A date that we regretted had turned out to be mostly possitive and good. Curtis had his hand in this I'm sure, he brought so many wonderful people into our lives.
The gathering at the wall was going to be just a few people who we felt have been there for us over the last year. As the week passed, a few more were invited. We gathered at our house to caravan to the wall. As we approched the downtown fire station, I could see the fire engine out with it's lights on. I didn't know this was for us. As we turned the corner, we were overwhelmed by the sight, the VFW color guard, the hook and ladder truck with the flag on top of the ladder, the police cars lined up with the drivers respectfully saluting, and the many citizens waving flags lined up for the next two blocks to our next turn. Dave recalls almost tipping the bike over he was so shocked by the sight. I could only wave and mouth "Thank you" as I drove passed them.
As we approched the wall, there were around 30 Patriot Guard, without their flags because this was not a true mission, along with some very important people in our lives that lined the sidewalk to the wall. I was stunned. My only thought was to hug every one of them, and I did just that. There wasn't a program planned, but we placed the memorial Dave made, and had Michael, our church youth director and great mentor to Curtis, say a prayer. After we made a few comments of graditude, a couple of our guests presented us gifts. I guess it was a program after all. We then made our way to the VFW to raise a toast to Curtis, all the fallen, all who are still fighting, the Vets and their families.
The visit to Hamm Lake was just as moving and uplifting. How far we have come in a year. A date that we regretted had turned out to be mostly possitive and good. Curtis had his hand in this I'm sure, he brought so many wonderful people into our lives.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April 2, 2010
It's a date that will forever be etched in my brain. The day that changed the course of my life permanently. As the date approached, Dave and I would comment on how a year could feel like a day.
After work on this day a year ago I did some chores around the house, then Dave and I met Emily for an appetizer before she started work. She wanted to talk about school. She had been struggling with her choice of major, and was contemplating taking off a semester to live with Curits and Katie for a few months in Hawaii. What a great adventure for her, and today she had made her final decision to do it, pending Curtis' approval. We also talked about our family trip to Hawaii once Curtis returned home, we had booked the plane tickets only the night before.
After leaving Emily, we stopped for a couple of movies, ready for a quiet evening at home. A few minutes after getting home, Dave stepped out on the deck to call our dog back in, we were in the middle of a conversation, and when he stopped talking abruptly, I looked to see what was wrong. There he stood with his hand reaching out in a look of questioning. My first thought is that someone he hadn't seen in a long time had unexpectedly stopped by. That is when I saw the heads of two Marines walk in front the the deck. I knew instantly that this couldn't be good. I don't recall the words they used to inform us of our sons death, I didn't need words to know he was gone. I sat on the bench inside the door for a long time with my head in my hands, willing them to go away, wanting them to be wrong. I was in shock, tears didn't even come.
I couldn't tell you how much time had passed, but my first true thought was of Emily. We needed to inform her before anyone else. I needed to get to her RIGHT NOW! After calming me down and getting the information, we got into that infamous black suburban with three Marines, the two informants and the driver, to tell Emily the devastating news. As her manager walked with her up to the front entrance, I could see Emily smiling and joking with her, my only thought was that I was going to give her news that is going to take that sparkle from her.
Back home we made phone calls to family members, and discovered that the Marine that was in Indiana to inform Katie was having difficulty locating her. Emily called to ask her to go home. Katie instantly became alarmed by such a request, we were told not to tell her, but she was far from her fathers house and in a panic, asking us if Curtis was OK. I couldn't take it anymore, and after confirming she wasn't alone, and wasn't driving, I was the one to inform her of Curtis' death. This was not protocol, but it was the right thing to do. Thankfully, she was home for the Easter holiday and was with family and friends.
One more task before the Marines left for the evening, was to get some basic information from us because we were to head to Dover to witness the dignified transfer, to receive our son home from Afghanistan. How strange to be informed of this news, and then to leave family and friends, our support, to travel.
It amazes me how fast news travels, within hours our house was full of people. There were stories of Curtis, some I had never heard, lots of tears, yet plenty of laughter, he was a funny kid.
So begins the story of this new life.
After work on this day a year ago I did some chores around the house, then Dave and I met Emily for an appetizer before she started work. She wanted to talk about school. She had been struggling with her choice of major, and was contemplating taking off a semester to live with Curits and Katie for a few months in Hawaii. What a great adventure for her, and today she had made her final decision to do it, pending Curtis' approval. We also talked about our family trip to Hawaii once Curtis returned home, we had booked the plane tickets only the night before.
After leaving Emily, we stopped for a couple of movies, ready for a quiet evening at home. A few minutes after getting home, Dave stepped out on the deck to call our dog back in, we were in the middle of a conversation, and when he stopped talking abruptly, I looked to see what was wrong. There he stood with his hand reaching out in a look of questioning. My first thought is that someone he hadn't seen in a long time had unexpectedly stopped by. That is when I saw the heads of two Marines walk in front the the deck. I knew instantly that this couldn't be good. I don't recall the words they used to inform us of our sons death, I didn't need words to know he was gone. I sat on the bench inside the door for a long time with my head in my hands, willing them to go away, wanting them to be wrong. I was in shock, tears didn't even come.
I couldn't tell you how much time had passed, but my first true thought was of Emily. We needed to inform her before anyone else. I needed to get to her RIGHT NOW! After calming me down and getting the information, we got into that infamous black suburban with three Marines, the two informants and the driver, to tell Emily the devastating news. As her manager walked with her up to the front entrance, I could see Emily smiling and joking with her, my only thought was that I was going to give her news that is going to take that sparkle from her.
Back home we made phone calls to family members, and discovered that the Marine that was in Indiana to inform Katie was having difficulty locating her. Emily called to ask her to go home. Katie instantly became alarmed by such a request, we were told not to tell her, but she was far from her fathers house and in a panic, asking us if Curtis was OK. I couldn't take it anymore, and after confirming she wasn't alone, and wasn't driving, I was the one to inform her of Curtis' death. This was not protocol, but it was the right thing to do. Thankfully, she was home for the Easter holiday and was with family and friends.
One more task before the Marines left for the evening, was to get some basic information from us because we were to head to Dover to witness the dignified transfer, to receive our son home from Afghanistan. How strange to be informed of this news, and then to leave family and friends, our support, to travel.
It amazes me how fast news travels, within hours our house was full of people. There were stories of Curtis, some I had never heard, lots of tears, yet plenty of laughter, he was a funny kid.
So begins the story of this new life.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Happy Birthday
Last week I celebrated a birthday. I marked this date the same way I have for 27 years, quietly and alone, even without the birthday boy. As a teenager I had given this child up for adoption. The father of the child had walked away from the situation, and at a time when my family was still mourning the death of my sister, I was ill equipped to take care of him.
I knew from that point I would be honest to any future children about this child, but I needed to wait for the subject to arise. It did one day when Curtis was in elementary school. He asked me if I ever had to go to court for anything. I told him I had to go to give up my parental rights. His only reaction was a disappointed "Oh, is that it?", as if the story wasn't juicy enough. Over the years he periodically had questions for me, making me believe he held this child close to his heart too. He even helped me, inadvertently, spill the beans to Emily.
I know that some people think of this as a selfish act, but I did this for him. I wanted more for him than I was able to offer at the time. I think of it as one of the most selfless acts, I loved him enough to give him more. It was one of the most difficult things in my life, only overshadowed by the death of Curtis. I have thought of this child often over the years, but not as much as in the last year. I have never regretted the decision, but I wonder why after giving up one, I have to suffer the loss of another? I have thought often in the last year why some, seemingly, go through life unscathed, while others suffer so much? I'm not only talking about my own situation, I know many people who have had one thing after another. There is no answer to this question, but it is something I think of.
I hope to someday meet my child. It has always been my belief that I will leave it up to him to make the choice to meet me. That thought was briefly changed after Curits' death, I desperately wanted that connection, but it wouldn't be fair to him, and there was no replacing my loss. The thought of him out there, happy and healthy still gives me hope. Happy Birthday son.
I knew from that point I would be honest to any future children about this child, but I needed to wait for the subject to arise. It did one day when Curtis was in elementary school. He asked me if I ever had to go to court for anything. I told him I had to go to give up my parental rights. His only reaction was a disappointed "Oh, is that it?", as if the story wasn't juicy enough. Over the years he periodically had questions for me, making me believe he held this child close to his heart too. He even helped me, inadvertently, spill the beans to Emily.
I know that some people think of this as a selfish act, but I did this for him. I wanted more for him than I was able to offer at the time. I think of it as one of the most selfless acts, I loved him enough to give him more. It was one of the most difficult things in my life, only overshadowed by the death of Curtis. I have thought of this child often over the years, but not as much as in the last year. I have never regretted the decision, but I wonder why after giving up one, I have to suffer the loss of another? I have thought often in the last year why some, seemingly, go through life unscathed, while others suffer so much? I'm not only talking about my own situation, I know many people who have had one thing after another. There is no answer to this question, but it is something I think of.
I hope to someday meet my child. It has always been my belief that I will leave it up to him to make the choice to meet me. That thought was briefly changed after Curits' death, I desperately wanted that connection, but it wouldn't be fair to him, and there was no replacing my loss. The thought of him out there, happy and healthy still gives me hope. Happy Birthday son.
Friday, March 18, 2011
An Ordinary Friday?
On an ordinary Friday about a year ago I went to work. While checking my days schedule, I noticed a name of someone I had never seen before. Another girl in the office knew her and told me that her teenage son had drown a few years earlier. I was stunned, how do you get through something like that?
During the appointment I was having trouble making conversation. I didn't know her, and should not have known about her history, besides I was dealing with my own demons. Ever since Curtis had deployed to Iraq in 2008, it was a subject that could creep into my mind as a possibility more times than I could count, but I would always stop myself and say "NO, he is fine, he is coming home to me safe!" Now I was faced, one on one, with someone who knew this pain. I couldn't find a way to broach the subject. The idea of what I would do if I lost Curtis stopped me from saying anything to her. I felt awful after she left, but not as bad as I felt only a few hours later when I found out that when I was seeing that patient, Curtis had already been dead for three hours.
Was she sent to me for a reason and I squandered it? Not that she could have said anything to ease the pain of losing a child, or given any advice at that moment that would have made any sense to me, but I could have listened to her and let her talk about her son. How could I have her in my chair for 50 minutes and not mention it, or say how sorry I was? It's strange how this one hour almost a year ago still troubles me when only a few hours after this happened my life took such a drastic change. I still know nothing about this woman other than she lost her son so tragically, but she made an impact on my life that she will probably never know. I have come to hate the saying "Everything happens for a reason", but in this case I believe it is true.
During the appointment I was having trouble making conversation. I didn't know her, and should not have known about her history, besides I was dealing with my own demons. Ever since Curtis had deployed to Iraq in 2008, it was a subject that could creep into my mind as a possibility more times than I could count, but I would always stop myself and say "NO, he is fine, he is coming home to me safe!" Now I was faced, one on one, with someone who knew this pain. I couldn't find a way to broach the subject. The idea of what I would do if I lost Curtis stopped me from saying anything to her. I felt awful after she left, but not as bad as I felt only a few hours later when I found out that when I was seeing that patient, Curtis had already been dead for three hours.
Was she sent to me for a reason and I squandered it? Not that she could have said anything to ease the pain of losing a child, or given any advice at that moment that would have made any sense to me, but I could have listened to her and let her talk about her son. How could I have her in my chair for 50 minutes and not mention it, or say how sorry I was? It's strange how this one hour almost a year ago still troubles me when only a few hours after this happened my life took such a drastic change. I still know nothing about this woman other than she lost her son so tragically, but she made an impact on my life that she will probably never know. I have come to hate the saying "Everything happens for a reason", but in this case I believe it is true.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Strength & Courage
I have heard many times over the past year people saying how strong I am. I honestly don't feel very strong, I am only enduring what has been dealt to me. When people say to me, "I wouldn't be able to do it", it makes me angry. Of course they would, just like me, they have no other choice! I know that it is meant as a compliment, but it makes it sound as if they care for their children more than I do. I try not to hold on to this anger for any length, it gets me nowhere, and again, I know people are just trying to help.
I found this poem recently, and I think it is closer to what others are trying to say.
It takes strength to be certain,
It takes courage to have doubts.
It takes strength to fit in,
It takes courage to stand out.
It takes strength to share a friend's pain,
It takes courage to feel your own pain.
It takes strength to hide your own pain,
It takes courage to show it and deal with it.
It takes strength to stand guard,
It takes courage to let down your guard.
It takes strength to conquer,
It takes courage to surrender.
It takes strength to endure abuse,
It takes courage to stop it.
It takes strength to stand alone,
It takes courage to lean on another.
It takes strength to love,
It takes courage to be loved.
It takes strength to survive,
It takes courage to live.
Sylvia Kelly
I can see now that I have strength and courage, it just needed to be presented to me in a way I could understand.
I found this poem recently, and I think it is closer to what others are trying to say.
It takes strength to be certain,
It takes courage to have doubts.
It takes strength to fit in,
It takes courage to stand out.
It takes strength to share a friend's pain,
It takes courage to feel your own pain.
It takes strength to hide your own pain,
It takes courage to show it and deal with it.
It takes strength to stand guard,
It takes courage to let down your guard.
It takes strength to conquer,
It takes courage to surrender.
It takes strength to endure abuse,
It takes courage to stop it.
It takes strength to stand alone,
It takes courage to lean on another.
It takes strength to love,
It takes courage to be loved.
It takes strength to survive,
It takes courage to live.
Sylvia Kelly
I can see now that I have strength and courage, it just needed to be presented to me in a way I could understand.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Vacation
Dave and I are leaving for Cancun on Friday. Although I am happy to go, I get a feeling that others around me are more excited for me.
It has been a strange lead up to this trip. Usually Dave and I would research every aspect of our vacation, feeling that half our trip is in the planning. Looking at flights, places to stay and what there is to do to "keep us busy". This time we went to a travel planner that I know and told her what we wanted in a resort, and didn't care where we ended up. We don't have one single thing planned for the entire week we are gone.
I guess it's that I feel a sense of guilt over this. I know it sounds illogical, but I can't escape the feeling. How can I go somewhere so wonderful and enjoy myself when Curtis will never experience such things? Don't get me wrong, Curtis did alot of living in his short 20 years, we made sure of that, and we are so glad we did, but it is what I think of every time I do something. Maybe this is why we chose a very different vacation than the usual ski trip we have taken over the last several years. Will this be something I do for the rest of my life? Will the feeling lessen?
When we get into the sun and warmth, I know I will relax and enjoy myself. Maybe I don't need to frantically run from one thing to the next to get everything out of my trip. This is a true lesson I have learned over the last year, to stop and enjoy what it is I have, not what I don't, even though it isn't easy sometimes.
It has been a strange lead up to this trip. Usually Dave and I would research every aspect of our vacation, feeling that half our trip is in the planning. Looking at flights, places to stay and what there is to do to "keep us busy". This time we went to a travel planner that I know and told her what we wanted in a resort, and didn't care where we ended up. We don't have one single thing planned for the entire week we are gone.
I guess it's that I feel a sense of guilt over this. I know it sounds illogical, but I can't escape the feeling. How can I go somewhere so wonderful and enjoy myself when Curtis will never experience such things? Don't get me wrong, Curtis did alot of living in his short 20 years, we made sure of that, and we are so glad we did, but it is what I think of every time I do something. Maybe this is why we chose a very different vacation than the usual ski trip we have taken over the last several years. Will this be something I do for the rest of my life? Will the feeling lessen?
When we get into the sun and warmth, I know I will relax and enjoy myself. Maybe I don't need to frantically run from one thing to the next to get everything out of my trip. This is a true lesson I have learned over the last year, to stop and enjoy what it is I have, not what I don't, even though it isn't easy sometimes.
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