Burn My Shadow

Awhile back I purchased this song on iTunes; it is without a doubt the most haunting song I have ever heard. I printed out the lyrics to read as I listened to the song. Recently, I viewed the music video, which has increased the disquieting effect on me. I don’t particularly care for the musical arrangement, but the lyrics keep drawing me in to listen to this song again and again.

“Burn My Shadow”

~ Unkle featuring Ian Astbury

I have burned my tomorrow
And I stand inside today
At the edge of the future
And my dreams all fade away

I have burned my tomorrows
And I stand inside today
At the edge of the future
And my dreams all fade away

And burn my shadow away
And burn my shadow away

Fate's my destroyer
I was ambushed by the light
And you judged me once for falling
This wounded heart will rise

And burn my shadow away
And burn my shadow away

An' I see the light, too light for love
An' I see the light, too light for love
An' I see the light, too light for love
An' I see the light, too light for love

An' I see the light, too light for love
Burn my shadow
An' I see the light, too light for love
Oh...
An' I see the light, too light for love
Burn my shadow
An' I see the light, too light for love
Away

And burn my shadow away
And burn my shadow away
Oh, how I loved you

 

I desperately want to sit down and talk to Shane about this song. He is, without a doubt, the one person who would walk me through this song. We would discuss the various levels of the lyrics, the angles, the approaches. We would have one of our philosophical conversations. When the conversation was over, I would have a smile on my face. An honest-to-goodness smile! A smile that warms the heart.

And then brutally wraps me in a cloak of darkness. I will never have this conversation with Shane. I can only play this conversation in my mind – just as I can only play the song.

I will close my eyes and listen to the song and maybe, just maybe, I will gather the insight that I am desperately looking for.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Spring Break

Recently, I was invited to speak to the Family Readiness Group (FRG) at Fort Campbell. For those unfamiliar with the FRG, it is a group of family members, volunteers, soldiers, and civilian employees who provide activities and support for families during deployments. The FRG is also responsible to help families in case of an injury or casualty. I thought long and hard before I accepted this invitation – was I strong enough to speak to a group about Shane’s death? Was I strong enough to travel by myself? Was I strong enough to revisit Fort Campbell?

The speaking engagement was scheduled during my spring break, which eventually swayed my mind to accept the invitation. I already knew in my heart and mind, that this spring break would be not the spring break of 2010. It was April of 2010 when I traveled to Nashville and had wonderful experience with Shane before his deployment in May.

Most of Shane’s Bushmaster Brothers were off “playing” in the mountains, preparing for their upcoming deployment. Shane was so proud to be part of the legacy of the 101^st Airborne Division. He was even prouder to be part of the Bastogne Brigade Combat Team which stands ready to deploy within 36 hours worldwide. I was fortunate that a few of Shane’s brothers-in- arms were still on post. I requested and was granted permission to have Thomas Kappler and Jordan Daniels as my escorts. I had the privilege of meeting these honorable men back in October when Kurt, Beth, and I visited the memorial at Fort Campbell.

For some reason the Army thought I needed to fly out on Thursday at 6:50 in the morning; even though, I was not scheduled to speak until Friday morning. Actually, it worked out well because I had the entire day to spend with Thomas and Jordan. These men were always polite and respectful; after all, “honor and duty” is part of their core. I was comforted seeing two familiar faces at the airport. We spent the morning in Nashville, which is a magnificent city. We had breakfast in the business district, which was in full swing. Men and women in business suits, carrying briefcases and coffees, were hustling to get to work on time. We ventured to the river, home of entertainment area, which was quietly sleeping off a nasty hangover. The smell of stale beer still lingered in the air. The afternoon was spent touring the post and hearing stories of Shane, including a visit to the memorial. In the evening, Jordan’s wife and son joined us for dinner. It was a relaxing way to end the day.

My escorts picked me up on Friday morning to bring me on post for my talk. Oh yes, the talk - I still hadn’t decided exactly what to say. I always get so nervous speaking in front of people, so I like to have my ducks in order, but this was different. I wasn’t quite sure from which angle I should approach my audience. And then I remembered to just be me, and with that I decided to speak from the heart.

Ah, this broken heart, was it going to be strong enough to guide me through my speaking engagement? I drew a deep breath and thanked the group of volunteers for their time and personal sacrifices. I let them know that it was 17 months to that very day that the Reifert household was turned inside out and upside down. Not just the Reifert household, but each and everyone who knew and loved Shane. I spoke about a mother’s love for her son. I spoke about a father’s love for his son. I spoke about a sister’s love for her brother and best friend. I spoke about grandparents; aunts and uncles; cousins; friends; and brothers-in-arms love for Shane. I spoke about a young man’s dream of serving his country; then, a man’s dream of protecting his country. Finally, I spoke of a Soldier’s deep belief in fighting to keep his brothers-in-arms safe. I expressed my views about what I appreciated from the group and a few things I would like to see changed. I closed with a few lines from John O’Donohue’s “Matins 2”

          May I live this day

          Compassionate of heart,

          Clear in word,

          Gracious in awareness,

          Courageous in thought,

          Generous in love.

And when I was finished speaking, I knew that Shane would be proud of his mother. I knew that I had made the right decision in venturing to Fort Campbell.

After lunch with my escorts and a few of the volunteers, the 1SGT’s wife asked me if I would come back to the company headquarters. Karen said, that while neither she nor her husband ever met Shane (this is a new position for the 1SGT), his name is always spoken in the utmost respect. She took me to the Bushmaster’s back offices, where there is photo after photo of Shane on the walls. I thanked her for sharing this gift with me because it helped me grasp a tighter hold of this Bushmaster Brotherhood.

My trip to Fort Campbell was made complete when I was able to meet up with the Loheide family. Matt and Marianne recently welcomed their beautiful daughter, Bella, into the world. Kurt, Beth, and I first met Marianne back in January of 2011 at the Eagle Remembrance Ceremony. Marianne is one of good ones, always honest, always compassionate, always caring. While Marianne and I may differ on favorite sports teams, I gladly call her my friend.

When the time came to venture to the airport, Thomas and Jordan, allowed me to ramble on about Shane. I will be forever grateful to these Bushmaster Brothers, who must make their own mothers very proud.

As I sat at the gate waiting to board the plane, I reflected about my visit to Fort Campbell. I fondly thought about the shenanigans of Thomas and Jordan. I closed my eyes and thought, yes; Shane could have been part of the shenanigans. He would have been part of the shenanigans, and maybe, just maybe, he was part of the shenanigans. Oh, that part of the story is for another day…

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

         

Shane

I often think about the Shane that I know and love and the Army Shane. I know there is an entire part of Shane that I only got a glimpse. The reason I only got a glimpse is because that is the way Shane wanted it; he wanted to keep me from worrying, he wanted to keep me from truly knowing the sacrifices that were made, he wanted to keep me from the truth.

Recently, Colin Shearing, one of Shane’s brothers-in-arms sent me a few photographs that he had taken of Shane. I asked Colin about the photograph and he responded, “It was taken in the beginning of our deployment. It was one of our first actually big missions; it was called Operation Strong Eagle One. The photo was specifically taken on a rooftop in Daredam. It was taken on day three of what turned out to be a five-day mission.” Colin gave me permission to post this photograph.

This photograph stopped me in my tracks because this is such a rare capture of the duality of Shane. Here is Shane in that godforsaken country. Here is Shane in his uniform, dirty and without a shower for at least three days. Here is Shane with that gait that is frozen in time.

I could easily close my eyes and put a cleanly showered Shane in his favorite Black Keys t-shirt, old jeans, and Converse shoes with that exact same gait. Those of us who knew and loved Shane could do the exact same thing. This is Shane!

They say, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” but to me – this picture is a gift that cannot be measured in words.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Candy Wrappers

Candy wrappers, silly subject, but they won’t leave my mind.

When we were at Fort Campbell for our visit in the fall, we received some of Shane’s belongings.

When Shane was killed in Afghanistan, his belongings were packed up and shipped stateside. Shane’s uniforms were laundered and neatly folded. Shane’s books and letters were neatly packed. Shane’s electronics were safely packed. I was so grateful to touch his iPod because we had gone shopping for a new one. I remember having to sign one of the many documents verifying the return of the items.

I was saddened because nothing smelled like Shane. The only glimpse of Shane was the ruffling of the edges on the letters or sand that had fallen into the pages of books.

Candy wrappers…

The very last letter we received from Shane when he was at Fort Benning for OSUT (One Station Unit Training) was postmarked November 09, 2009. The letter is eleven pages in length, written over one week’s span. The letter begins with, “Well, Holy shit is all I can say….” I can close my eyes and hear the excitement in Shane’s voice. The letter is filled with Shane’s advanced individual training for the Infantry. The letter is written with similes and metaphors – just trying to give us a glimpse of his training. Included in the letter is a, “PS – I included a candy wrapper for the candy they gave us on Halloween. Remind me to tell you the story sometime.” The wrapper has a scary monster with glowing eyes and a wiggly smile. Shane did share the story, which put smiles on our faces.

Candy wrappers…

I have previously posted about our last visit to Fort Campbell. During the visit, we met Chris Childs, who was one of Shane’s good buddies. Chris told Kurt that he had some of Shane’s belongings that were mistakenly not sent to us. Chris took great care of Shane’s belongings for the remainder of the tour. Chris gave Kurt one of Shane’s duffle bags and his rucksack.

Included in the duffle bag was Shane’s beret. Oh, we were all so grateful to receive that beret. I can close my eyes and see Shane putting on the beret during the family day weekend at Fort Benning. He was so proud to place the beret on his head, which meant he had qualified for an overnight visit with his family.

Also, in the duffle bag were a couple of Shane’s uniforms. Yes, dirty uniforms! Uniforms that did not smell like my Shane, but the Army Shane. Yet, I was so grateful that the uniforms came with sand and stains and dirt and candy wrappers!

Yes, deep in one of the pockets were a couple of candy wrappers. Kurt was so good at sending Shane and his brothers-in-arms care packages. And there they were – a Starburst wrapper, a Twizzlers wrapper, and a bubble gum wrapper. I felt I had just discovered a priceless treasure. It was a bit of home, it was a bit of trying to give comfort in a godforsaken country, it was a bit of sweetness, it was a bit of love.

Candy wrappers…

Who would have ever guessed something that is so easily discarded could bring so many fond memories?

Yes, a bit of love and so much more.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

"This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace on Earth." - translated from a plaque at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial

Before Shane deployed to Afghanistan, he began to cut back on his communication with our family. Phone calls became less frequent and went unanswered. Conversations were shorter. Darker. His voice tense. Always holding back and keeping conversation light. Speaking words, but not really talking.  

The day before Shane got on a plane with the rest of the men of Bravo Company, he called me. I was surprised to see his name appear on my phone screen. I was standing on my futon, overlooking my giant open window, and hanging paper cranes.  The sunlight was so beautiful that day. It bounced off of the windows across the street. It hit the paper cranes, many of which were made of reflective paper. There was a breeze that came in through the window that allowed me to wear a sweatshirt and not be too hot or too cold.  It was the sort of weather that happens only a few times a year in Michigan.

Hey Buddy. What’s up?

Hey Bethie.

What’s going on?

Nothing. Just packing. Hey – Johnson wants to know how to . . .

There we were, having a completely normal conversation, as if nothing big was happening. The phone call consisted of attempting to explain international cell phone data plans to Shane to relay to one of his friends. It ended abruptly. Shane rushed off of the phone, saying something about an inspection. And that was it.

I sat on my windowsill, honored and hurt at the same time. So I looked at the cranes, hung with fishing wire and tape, as the moved in the breeze.

And I thought about Sadako Sasaki.

When I was in grade school, I learned about Sadako Sasaki, the girl who attempted to fold one thousand paper cranes. Japanese legend holds that anyone who folds one thousand cranes will have a wish granted by the gods. Sadako lived in Hiroshima when the atomic bomb was dropped and was hospitalized due to the effects of the bomb. She attempted to fold one thousand cranes, but died from leukemia, caused by radiation exposure, before completing her goal.

Her friends completed the task and buried the cranes with her.

As I sat cross-legged on the windowsill, I realized that I was okay with that being my last conversation with Shane before he deployed. It was normal. It wasn’t forced. There wasn’t a painful goodbye. I knew in my heart that I would talk to him again. I just didn’t know how little time I had left.

So I went back to hanging my paper cranes. I never made one thousand of them. Never came close and never even tried.

Nowadays, the paper cranes are packed away in a storage container. Saved up, I suppose, for a time that I might need the gods to grant me a wish.

Black Olives

Well, this holiday season is tricky because last year I could convince myself that Shane would not have been home for the holidays. If Shane hadn’t been killed he would have still been in Afghanistan. It is a silly game the mind plays, but it was a game that helped me get through the holidays last year.

This year, I did not have that luxury of playing a game with my mind. Instead, I knew that Shane should be home – yes, home for the holidays because the tour was over. Yet, Shane was not home because the brutality of death truly wins. Shane will never ever be home again.

Instead, I (we) create a new existence without the physical presence of Shane. Those of us who knew and loved Shane have changed. The change is a necessity to process my life without my son, but every once in awhile something happens that tugs on the strings of the heart.

Traditionally, we spend Christmas Eve with Kurt’s side of the family and Christmas day with my side of the family. True to tradition, we continued with our holiday plans.

Yesterday, I received a telephone call for a simple request. “Will you bring a can of black olives on Christmas day? I forgot to grab a can at the store.” The request was from Shane’s godmother; Shane loved his Aunt Jane. Jane just happens to be married to my brother, John. Jane is more than my sister-in-law, she is my best friend.

You see, Shane really liked black olives. Beth and I like black olives, but Shane loved black olives. A year ago, I would have had at least six cans of black olives in the pantry. This year, not a single can in the house, not even in the back corner of the refrigerator. Kurt, being the brave one, ventured to the grocery store and purchased a couple of cans of black olives.

When we would have family over one can was never enough because when the kids were young, they would put black olives on their finger tips and laugh and laugh while they nibbled away on the olives. Never the green ones, only the black ones.

I know it is silly, but this simple request made me realize how many little things I have altered in my life. And then I wondered why I stopped purchasing black olives, but subconsciously I knew why.

Tonight, I put black olives on my plate. And with a smile on my face and a gaze up to the heavens, I thanked Shane for his love of black olives.

Oh, and that other can of black olives was placed in my refrigerator.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Monuments and Men

A couple of months ago, we traveled to Fort Campbell. It was a trip which I needed to make to help with my healing process. We drove through continuous rains as if the heavens were crying with me. My heart was so heavy, so wanting and waiting to feel whole again.

The drive to Kentucky was beautiful; the colors of fall still remained on the branches. Through the raindrops I wondered where all the other people were going on their travels. Were they going to work or a day of errands or on a trip of discovery?

We arrived at Fort Campbell in time for a ceremony for the Gold Star Families. This was not the reason for our trip, but we felt it was important to attend the ceremony. We were honored to be escorted by CPT Sean Hinrichs, who was Shane’s platoon leader. I am sure that Sean’s parents are as proud of their son as we are of Shane. And now I finally had the opportunity to meet the man who spent so many hours with my son.

The ceremony was very moving and, at the end, a family member placed a yellow rose inside the blue star. When I returned to my chair, I felt so small and was so glad to be able to hold Kurt’s hand. 

 

Sean then took us to the site of the monuments for the fallen Soldiers of the 101^st Airborne Division (Air Assault), 327^th Infantry Regiment. This was my reason to venture to Fort Campbell; the trip gave me an opportunity to lay my hands on a monument. It is the monument that bares the names of the Soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice in Operation OEF XI May 2010 – May 2011. The monument is inscribed on both sides with the men who gave their lives for honor and country.

It bares Shane’s name. And then a Merlin caught my eye – it flew low and settled in a pine tree. At that moment, I felt a wave of peace come over me. It is a fleeting thing, but I am so grateful for those precious moments of peace. I began to grasp that brotherhood of honor, duty, and commitment.

Later in our visit, we got to meet Shane’s brothers-in-arms and their families. We spent lunches and dinners in conversations wrapped in love and respect. We laughed and we cried. I was able to put faces and voices to the men; the men so important to Shane. We were invited over to Doc’s house; a house filled with love.

I was now able to fully realize that I will never truly understand this brotherhood, but that is okay because it is something only the men of the 101^st Airborne Division, 1/327^th, Bravo Company – those Bushmaster Brothers can understand.

Each of the men will forever hold a special place in my heart. I am grateful to have been given this opportunity to witness the brotherhood.

As we drove home, the skies were no longer pouring rain; instead, the sun was poking through the clouds as my thoughts drifted in and out of peace.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Wreaths Across America

On the second Saturday of December, coordinated wreath laying ceremonies occurred at Veteran cemeteries sponsored by Wreaths Across America. I did not attend the ceremony on Saturday; instead, I went to Great Lakes National Cemetery today. I did not attend the ceremony because my time at the cemetery is filled with quiet reflection.

I am thankful for this group and the many volunteers who gave up their precious time to attend the ceremony. Personally, I know kindhearted people who attended the ceremony, people who knew and loved Shane and everything he stood for. I know the young boys who placed the wreath on Shane’s tombstone.

It was a bitter cold morning, but the sun was shining, which has a tendency to make everything a little bit better. As I turned into the drive, the first things to catch my eye were the flags. Today, all the flags were raised and waving in the wind. It is a magnificent sight – the red, the white, and the blue. It is a brutal reminder of the ultimate sacrifice that Shane freely made to help keep us safe.

I pulled over and parked near Shane’s tombstone. I can sit in the Jeep and view Shane’s final resting spot. I have my little rituals for my visits to the cemetery. Today, we listened to the new cd by the Black Keys from start to finish (no skipping songs because that is one of Shane’s rules for listening to a new album).

I always read poetry when I visit Shane’s grave and today was no exception. On some visits I know which poems I will read, but today, I let the book decide for me. I opened the book and let the page come to me. I brought John O’Donohue’s To Bless the Space Between Us. When I opened my eyes and saw the title of the poem, I closed my eyes and said – no, this must be a mistake, but I did not change my draw. Instead, I read the following poem. And even though the tears did not stop flowing for the longest time, I knew in my heart, this was the poem for the day.

“For Grief”

~ John O’Donohue

When you lose someone you love,

Your life becomes strange,

The ground beneath you gets fragile,

Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;

And some dead echo drags your voice down

Where words have no confidence.

Your heart has grown heavy with loss;

And though this loss has wounded others too,

No one knows what has been taken from you

When the silence of absence deepens.

Flickers of guilt kindle regret

For all that was left unsaid or undone.

There are days when you wake up happy;

Again inside the fullness of life,

Until the moment breaks

And you are thrown back

Onto the black tide of loss.

Days when you have your heart back,

You are able to function well

Until in the middle of work or encounter,

Suddenly with no warning,

You are ambushed by grief.

It becomes hard to trust yourself.

All you can depend on now is that

Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.

More than you, it know its way

And will find the right time

To pull and pull the rope of grief

Until that coiled hill of tears

Has reduced to its last drop.

Gradually, you will learn acquaintance

With the invisible form of your departed;

And when the work of grief is done,

The wound of loss will heal

And you will have learned

To wean your eyes

From that gap in the air

And be able to enter the hearth

In your soul where your loved one

Has awaited your return

All the time.

As I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Veterans Day

Not just Veterans Day, but every day, take a moment to remember those who put their lives on the line each moment of the day. Honor those who bravely serve or have served to maintain the freedoms of this great nation.

Always and forever,

Shane's Mammy and Beth's Momma

A Father's Tribute to his Son

He loved his family
He was smart
He read books
He loved music
He was quick witted with a very dry sense of humor
... He was a very deep thinker
He understood history
He did not suffer fools
He was a champion of the underdog
He was loyal
He was talented
He was handsome
He would never back down
He took shit from no one
He tried to improve himself every day
He knew the meaning of duty and honor
He was proud to wear the CIB
He was proud to be a Screaming Eagle
He was more proud to be a Bushmaster
He loved the men he served with

He was my son and I miss him so......................