Hundreds of small crosses line the walkway leading to the Chapel at Ft Snelling. They announce the price of freedom from a five state area. They were placed there on Saturday and will remain until five tonight, Memorial Day. It is always sobering when I see a wall of names or rows of headstones or crosses.
Dave and I were there at this beautiful Chapel for the first time on Sunday for the special service for the Gold Star families. Rev Beale has a powerful way of speaking. I'm not used to being in a service in which the audience response is audible, but his manner called for it.
His message simply put, 'With burdens come many blessings.' Our day is filled with many burdens, some small and some large, but with that we need to see the blessings of the day too. That can sometimes be the difficult part. Because of this, we need to live day to day, not worrying about what may come tomorrow.
I can think of no family that knows and lives this concept more than a Gold Star family. Our burden was to sacrifice our children for the greater good, our freedoms. The right of religion, freedom of speech, the pursuit of happiness will endure because of our brave men and woman who knew the risks and signed on to protect and defend them. Because I view this as a public death, I find great responsibility in it too. I sometimes feel I represent many. Veterans, Military, Gold Star and most importantly, Curtis who can no longer speak for himself.
With this burden came many blessings in the people we have met and are fortunate to call friends. I've experienced things that would have never come my way without this loss. Unexpected blessings happen when you are forced to live day to day. Without all my days planned to the minute, I can accept them.
Today is a day to remember the burdens of our freedom. Take time, if only a moment, to reflect on the price. Don't feel guilty you are enjoying a barbecue with friends and family. I will be doing the same, that is the blessing of freedom.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Gift
Last week was full of emotional lows. A tough funeral followed by Curtis' birthday made getting through each day one by one a must. By Saturday I was emotionally drained yet I had one more bitter sweet day to go, Mothers Day. In my quest to get through the week, I knew this day was looming but hadn't given it much thought until I started recieving cards and flowers.
Saturday Dave and I met up with a friend to go for a ride. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a few hours on the bike. After getting on our way, my habit is to say a little prayer for safety and to ask Curtis to watch over us. As I finished my request I looked high in the sky to my right, there a cloud showed a face as clear as a photo. I stared at it for at least a minute with awe, it truly looked like Curtis. I wished for a camera. Sometimes I carry one on me, but that day I didn't even have my phone on me. I decided that this was a picture that was not meant to be saved, but savored. As the face spread out, the lips and nose widening, my eyes filled with tears out of happiness for this gift. After such a difficult week this brought me a bit of joy.
I have only recently been able to see these gifts. Maybe I wasn't ready before this. I talked only last week to a widow of 5 years about signs. She told me that she didn't want to see them, her husband was the love of her life and she feels they would be too painful. I think he knows her request and doesn't send them. I've yearned for them, and I think Curtis knew when the time was right.
It was a good Mothers day. The beautiful flowers from Emily and Nic, the great card from Katie and the portrait from Curtis made my day.
Saturday Dave and I met up with a friend to go for a ride. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a few hours on the bike. After getting on our way, my habit is to say a little prayer for safety and to ask Curtis to watch over us. As I finished my request I looked high in the sky to my right, there a cloud showed a face as clear as a photo. I stared at it for at least a minute with awe, it truly looked like Curtis. I wished for a camera. Sometimes I carry one on me, but that day I didn't even have my phone on me. I decided that this was a picture that was not meant to be saved, but savored. As the face spread out, the lips and nose widening, my eyes filled with tears out of happiness for this gift. After such a difficult week this brought me a bit of joy.
I have only recently been able to see these gifts. Maybe I wasn't ready before this. I talked only last week to a widow of 5 years about signs. She told me that she didn't want to see them, her husband was the love of her life and she feels they would be too painful. I think he knows her request and doesn't send them. I've yearned for them, and I think Curtis knew when the time was right.
It was a good Mothers day. The beautiful flowers from Emily and Nic, the great card from Katie and the portrait from Curtis made my day.
Friday, May 11, 2012
May 11, 1989
Every parent remembers the day their child was born, especially Mothers. Curtis in his true fashion did his best to make it very memorable.
May 11, 1989. A beautiful warm spring day.
I woke early in the morning to light labor pains. I spent the day feeling them, but they weren't too uncomfortable. I even contemplated accepting a friends request to join her for lunch, but thought better of it, just in case. Dave got home from work around four, and a friend of his stopped in. As my pains had gotten stronger, I went to the bedroom to wait out their conversation, willing the friend to GO HOME! Shortly after he left around five, I told Dave we should really go to the hospital. The pains had become stronger and closer together, and I was feeling alot of back pressure. As I walked through the living room, my water broke. Getting to the bathroom, asking Dave to get me a fresh set of clothing so we could get going, my body took over. Curtis had other plans than to have an ordinary birth at the hospital. Within minutes at 5:04, he was there in our arms, all 10 pounds 11 ounces of him.
Our Pastor told the story of a rushed birth as part of the eulogy. He noted that Dave and I were the only ones present to welcome him into the world. No doctors or nurses, no waiting family members, just his parents. After we assured he was healthy and breathing, we realized how special, although scary, that moment was.
As much as a child changes your life when they enter it, I have found the change is even greater when you lose one, for different reasons. No nine months to prepare, no bundle of joy, but with the same sleepless nights and worry. Instead of milestones, you only have memories. With a baby at home you have something to live for, now you must find a way to live on. The birthday boy will be forever 20.
Curtis left this world just five weeks shy of his 21st birthday in the same grandiose fashion as his birth, always remembered. Happy Birthday Curtis, you will always be loved for the many surprises you brought me.
May 11, 1989. A beautiful warm spring day.
I woke early in the morning to light labor pains. I spent the day feeling them, but they weren't too uncomfortable. I even contemplated accepting a friends request to join her for lunch, but thought better of it, just in case. Dave got home from work around four, and a friend of his stopped in. As my pains had gotten stronger, I went to the bedroom to wait out their conversation, willing the friend to GO HOME! Shortly after he left around five, I told Dave we should really go to the hospital. The pains had become stronger and closer together, and I was feeling alot of back pressure. As I walked through the living room, my water broke. Getting to the bathroom, asking Dave to get me a fresh set of clothing so we could get going, my body took over. Curtis had other plans than to have an ordinary birth at the hospital. Within minutes at 5:04, he was there in our arms, all 10 pounds 11 ounces of him.
Our Pastor told the story of a rushed birth as part of the eulogy. He noted that Dave and I were the only ones present to welcome him into the world. No doctors or nurses, no waiting family members, just his parents. After we assured he was healthy and breathing, we realized how special, although scary, that moment was.
As much as a child changes your life when they enter it, I have found the change is even greater when you lose one, for different reasons. No nine months to prepare, no bundle of joy, but with the same sleepless nights and worry. Instead of milestones, you only have memories. With a baby at home you have something to live for, now you must find a way to live on. The birthday boy will be forever 20.
Curtis left this world just five weeks shy of his 21st birthday in the same grandiose fashion as his birth, always remembered. Happy Birthday Curtis, you will always be loved for the many surprises you brought me.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Homecomings
In the past week there has been homecomings for many Rochester area families. The Red Bulls, Minnesota's National Guard, who have been deployed for over a year have been making their way home in waves.
I am happy that they are back. Children are reunited with their parents, spouses back together again, and parents with their son or daughter. I'm sure there are many homecoming parties to celebrate. Sadly, in the midst of this joy, there is a homecoming that I relate to most.
Sgt Nicholas Dickhut will be coming home to his family. Not with open arms for a hug, but with the American flag draped over him with dignity. Last Sunday, April 30th, Sgt Dickhut lost his life in a small arms battle in Afghanistan.
This homecoming has made me relive many of the events and emotions my family went through two years ago. The difficult trip to Dover to witness the dignified transfer, and to make decisions no parent should have to make in order to bury their son. The streams of family and friends coming to our home over the week to visit or help out, yet I barely recall them in my daze. The feelings of dispare I know they are now going through, I am reliving myself. Although the feelings are not as heart wrenching and deep as they were two years ago, they are still very painful, knowing another family must go through this.
I will go to the services for Sgt Dickhut. It meant so much to me that many Gold Star Families were at Curtis' services. The support I received from them is priceless, and I want to be there for his family as well. Just as I wish things had been different for us, my wish to never having to do this for another family was not meant to be.
Rest in Peace Nicholas, you will not be forgotten.
I am happy that they are back. Children are reunited with their parents, spouses back together again, and parents with their son or daughter. I'm sure there are many homecoming parties to celebrate. Sadly, in the midst of this joy, there is a homecoming that I relate to most.
Sgt Nicholas Dickhut will be coming home to his family. Not with open arms for a hug, but with the American flag draped over him with dignity. Last Sunday, April 30th, Sgt Dickhut lost his life in a small arms battle in Afghanistan.
This homecoming has made me relive many of the events and emotions my family went through two years ago. The difficult trip to Dover to witness the dignified transfer, and to make decisions no parent should have to make in order to bury their son. The streams of family and friends coming to our home over the week to visit or help out, yet I barely recall them in my daze. The feelings of dispare I know they are now going through, I am reliving myself. Although the feelings are not as heart wrenching and deep as they were two years ago, they are still very painful, knowing another family must go through this.
I will go to the services for Sgt Dickhut. It meant so much to me that many Gold Star Families were at Curtis' services. The support I received from them is priceless, and I want to be there for his family as well. Just as I wish things had been different for us, my wish to never having to do this for another family was not meant to be.
Rest in Peace Nicholas, you will not be forgotten.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Hopes and Dreams
There are many things that make this journey difficult. One thing I get hung up on over and over, is the idea that suddenly all the hopes and dreams that I had for Curtis were stripped from me.
Somewhere I read, 'When our children are alive we have many new things to talk about each day. Suddenly that stops, and you are left with only the memories, there is nothing new.' The same goes for the hopes and dreams. I can no longer think of the grandchildren that would give him as many grey hairs as he gave me. I know he would have made a great husband and father, but I will never get to witness it. I cannot watch as he discovers his mission in life, would he go to school or stay in the military? Those I will never know.
The lost dreams are not limited to Curtis. It interrupted Emily and Katie's future plans as well. All of our paths had to endure this major hiccup that diverted us to something else. It pains me that they had to go through this heartache at such a young age.
Of course not all aspects of our new life are bad. New missions, new relationships and new hopes and dreams have emerged. I hope Katie will remarry, she deserves to be happy and that is what Curtis would want for her. I dream of the many grandchildren Emily may have. And the work Dave and I have been doing to help others, has helped us.
By moving forward, we live for Curtis.
Somewhere I read, 'When our children are alive we have many new things to talk about each day. Suddenly that stops, and you are left with only the memories, there is nothing new.' The same goes for the hopes and dreams. I can no longer think of the grandchildren that would give him as many grey hairs as he gave me. I know he would have made a great husband and father, but I will never get to witness it. I cannot watch as he discovers his mission in life, would he go to school or stay in the military? Those I will never know.
The lost dreams are not limited to Curtis. It interrupted Emily and Katie's future plans as well. All of our paths had to endure this major hiccup that diverted us to something else. It pains me that they had to go through this heartache at such a young age.
Of course not all aspects of our new life are bad. New missions, new relationships and new hopes and dreams have emerged. I hope Katie will remarry, she deserves to be happy and that is what Curtis would want for her. I dream of the many grandchildren Emily may have. And the work Dave and I have been doing to help others, has helped us.
By moving forward, we live for Curtis.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Military Ball
Over the weekend, Dave and I attended a Military Ball in Spring Grove. Eight years ago two local ladies of this small community in southeast Minnesota wanted something to thank veterans, and this event was organized.
We had plans to attend two years ago just one week after the funeral. I just didn't feel up to it, so Dave took Emily as his date. Oddly enough, as they were getting out of the car, they spotted our Patriot Guard ride captain, he was to be the main speaker that evening. We didn't know him well at that time, and their unexpected presence at the event, over an hour south of Rochester, made him nervous. Our family was part of his speech.
During the program this year we were introduced to a family of eight, seven of whom were in attendance. The seven boys in the family had served our country during WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. But the final family member is the one who paid the largest price of military service. The only girl of eight had lost her son in Vietnam forty two years ago. It was the reason the theme of the event was to honor Gold Star Mothers. There were four mothers in attendance, two from Vietnam.
It was an honor meeting these ladies. At a time when war was an unpopular subject, they couldn't be publicly proud of their sons. Mabel from Mabel, I love that and just had to put it in there, told me that if she could have spoken of him, she may have been able to move forward with more ease. It makes me feel fortunate that things have changed.
The opportunities I have to meet people keep growing. The stories I am privileged to hear help me to heal. Although I am new to this process, I hope in some way I am returning the favor.
We had plans to attend two years ago just one week after the funeral. I just didn't feel up to it, so Dave took Emily as his date. Oddly enough, as they were getting out of the car, they spotted our Patriot Guard ride captain, he was to be the main speaker that evening. We didn't know him well at that time, and their unexpected presence at the event, over an hour south of Rochester, made him nervous. Our family was part of his speech.
During the program this year we were introduced to a family of eight, seven of whom were in attendance. The seven boys in the family had served our country during WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. But the final family member is the one who paid the largest price of military service. The only girl of eight had lost her son in Vietnam forty two years ago. It was the reason the theme of the event was to honor Gold Star Mothers. There were four mothers in attendance, two from Vietnam.
It was an honor meeting these ladies. At a time when war was an unpopular subject, they couldn't be publicly proud of their sons. Mabel from Mabel, I love that and just had to put it in there, told me that if she could have spoken of him, she may have been able to move forward with more ease. It makes me feel fortunate that things have changed.
The opportunities I have to meet people keep growing. The stories I am privileged to hear help me to heal. Although I am new to this process, I hope in some way I am returning the favor.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Three Moths
There are many people who identify their lost loved one with something. Dragonflies, cardinals or moths are a few I have heard of. I have identified Curtis with eagles from the beginning because of a story I had heard from the day of the funeral. Apparently, from the time we arrived at the church until the end of the funeral, two eagles floated above the members of the patriot guard, only leaving after the service.
Yesterday seemed to be an exception for me.
I'll back up a bit and say that it was bull riding weekend in Rochester again. On Friday Dave and I went alone, but soon were surrounded by many of the people of the rodeo that have become a part of a tradition for us. Some we know from the past two years, some that are just introducing themselves but have known our faces for two years. Saturday, we had plans with a few more people to attend with us, one being our friend who had lost her brother. While waiting for the event to start another sister of a local fallen hero sat a few seats in front of us. I decided that they both needed to meet the announcer so their loved one could be recognized as well. It was a good night.
So yesterday afternoon, as the winds picked up, little black moths with orange tipped wings started fluttering around my front window. Three to be exact. With the wind so strong, I expected them to leave quickly, but they stayed and played long enough that I walked to the window to watch. One started to fly at the window tapping it several times. It made me smile, thinking of the three boys.
Later, Dave and I decided to take the dog for a walk at a local park. An evening walk is highly unusual for us, we prefer walking in the mornings. As we started down the path, again I saw three black, orange tipped wing moths appear leading us down the trail. One flew directly at me only diverting itself at the last second. This time it made me laugh.
Some may say I'm reading into this too much, trying to find a sign in anything. I don't think so. Anything that reminds me of Curtis or others that have passed, keeps their memory alive. I'm grateful that this particular sign brings a happy thought. Three great guys, who didn't know each other in life, have found a connection in death. They have brought three families together to celebrate their lives.
Yesterday seemed to be an exception for me.
I'll back up a bit and say that it was bull riding weekend in Rochester again. On Friday Dave and I went alone, but soon were surrounded by many of the people of the rodeo that have become a part of a tradition for us. Some we know from the past two years, some that are just introducing themselves but have known our faces for two years. Saturday, we had plans with a few more people to attend with us, one being our friend who had lost her brother. While waiting for the event to start another sister of a local fallen hero sat a few seats in front of us. I decided that they both needed to meet the announcer so their loved one could be recognized as well. It was a good night.
So yesterday afternoon, as the winds picked up, little black moths with orange tipped wings started fluttering around my front window. Three to be exact. With the wind so strong, I expected them to leave quickly, but they stayed and played long enough that I walked to the window to watch. One started to fly at the window tapping it several times. It made me smile, thinking of the three boys.
Later, Dave and I decided to take the dog for a walk at a local park. An evening walk is highly unusual for us, we prefer walking in the mornings. As we started down the path, again I saw three black, orange tipped wing moths appear leading us down the trail. One flew directly at me only diverting itself at the last second. This time it made me laugh.
Some may say I'm reading into this too much, trying to find a sign in anything. I don't think so. Anything that reminds me of Curtis or others that have passed, keeps their memory alive. I'm grateful that this particular sign brings a happy thought. Three great guys, who didn't know each other in life, have found a connection in death. They have brought three families together to celebrate their lives.
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