"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......................

How do you measure, measure a year?

Sunday, November 06, 2011, has finally arrived.

The morning began with a magnificent sunrise – the sky awash with pink and orange. There is frost on the ground with the mist slowly rising; just as I arise today to discover the beauty that surrounds me. I am so very, very fortunate to be surrounded by a truly loving family and a compassionate group of friends.

Am I sad today? Of course, but I will not let that sadness consume me. Actually, yesterday was the brutal day because in my world I measure in weeks. And yesterday was 52 weeks to the day that the fatal news was delivered. It was a day, which I already knew in my heart, that when I arrived home there would be Army personnel in my driveway. It was a day I sat frozen in my Jeep. It was a day in which I had to call Kurt to come home. It was a day in which I had to call Beth to come home. It was a day and night to be in shock and disbelief making all the calls to family and friends.

Today I will take my sadness and tuck it in a back pocket. Instead, I will try and find the beauty in this world. I will look for moments of quiet tenderness and smiles.

I will cherish the memories of Shane.

I will still believe that there is still more good in the world than bad.

I will still ask why, why was such a good soul taken so young? I don’t think I will ever find the answer to that question.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

~ “Seasons of Love’

I will measure this year in sadness and love

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

Happy Birthday

Today is Shane’s birthday, facebook told me so. Well, silly facebook, I already knew that. Shane was born on October 27, 1987, and I knew that my life was truly whole. Kurt, Beth, and I welcomed our addition to the family with so much love.

 

Shane was not home for his last two birthdays. Two years ago he was at Fort Benning for OSUT (one station unit training) and last year he was in the Pech Valley in Afghanistan. Sometimes, I wonder which birthday was the most enjoyable or which birthday sucked the least.

Shane how are you spending your birthday today? I hope birthdays are celebrated up in heaven. I wonder if there are balloons and cake and ice cream.

I do know this much – you touched so many lives, and we are all better human beings to have had you in our lives.

Happy Birthday to you, my son, my Shane Michael, my Moe!!!

I have kept my promise to you as I continue to “put one foot in front of the other.”

Peace-

Always and forever-

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

The Season of Fall

Fall has always been my favorite season. I truly appreciate the cooler temperatures and the vast array of colors. There is something so comforting about the change in the seasons.

Fall was Shane’s favorite season. Shane was born in October, and Halloween was his favorite holiday.

 

Shane is seven-years-old in the photo; the tree is as tall as ever, and it is still holding onto its green leaves.

This fall is difficult; it is trickier than I ever imagined

Maybe it is the memories, maybe it is the change, or maybe, it is this thing called life

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

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

September 25, 2010

I am sitting here with a plastic bottle of Coke and a small bag of sourdough pretzels.

One year ago today, we took Shane to the airport to fly back to Afghanistan. I have previously posted about that drive to the airport. I have written about my special moment at the airport.

I do not have a photo from that day; instead, I have included a photo of my recent trip to the zoo. It is with pride and honor that I post this photo in Shane’s memory. Swan was Shane’s online gaming name. 

Maybe that is the reason this swan was so gracious to “perform” for me. I hope so.

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

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma