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

Screaming Eagles

A couple of weeks ago I was driving on the expressway; it was one of those ghastly gray summer days. The clouds hung low like a sheet settling on a bed.  I was in a contemplative mood, listening to one of my “sad” playlists. As I was driving, approaching Selfridge Air National Guard Base, “These Days,” by the Black Keys was filling my mind. Out of the rain clouds, a transport helicopter appeared, and it looked so forlorn, so mystical.  And then tears streamed down my face, and I wasn’t quite sure why. Why did this helicopter upset me? I teach near the base, so it is not uncommon for me to see the various planes and helicopters in the sky.

I forced myself to confront this demon of a helicopter, and then I realized why I was so upset. I was saddened because I knew so little about Shane’s life in Afghanistan. I know he didn’t want me to worry, didn’t want me to lose sleep, didn’t want me to know about… so, he seldom discussed any of his missions. Instead, when we had the opportunity to chat on facebook we would talk about music, the weather, or how my day was going. This was the way Shane wanted it, so I respected his wishes. I always believed that when Shane came home he would write a best selling novel about his experience, and that would be the way that I would hear about his life in a god-forsaken country.

Before I finished my errands, I stopped and sent a message. Doc is one of Shane’s dearest brothers-in-arms; he also is the medic in Shane’s platoon. So, I asked Doc if Shane ever had to repel out of a helicopter. Doc, always gracious, responded that day with the following message.

Doc gave me his permission to share the story on this blog.

“Kitty I want you to know that I would be more than happy to answer any of your questions, anytime. It's funny you should ask that. I was just thinking about our first real mission. Shane and I were selected to be on D.A.R.T. (downed aircraft recovery team). There was a huge resupply going into an area that was real hot and was very low on food and other supplies. So they were sending in 9 Chinook helicopters loaded with supply. Which is quite dangerous because of how long it will take to do this, the enemy could move in and attack. Chinooks are not very quiet. There were only a total of 12 of us on the team. We were only going to get spun up if a chopper went down. Well, we got spun up.....and it was AWESOME! Shane and I sat right across from each other on the Blackhawk, doors wide open, wind blowing through the cabin, pitch black, and about 8000 ft in the air. We would swoop in and out of the valley around ridges. I remember looking over at Shane (remember we are full kit, all our gear, weapon and night vision goggles down on our faces we look like hardcore aliens) and he smiles huge and gives me a thumbs up. I knew exactly what he was thinking because I felt exactly the same. This is why were here! This is what we do! It was an adrenalin rush and feeling like no other. Shane never fast roped out of a bird. But again no one has in Afghanistan because of the terrain. He did do a lot of Air Assault missions where we rush off a bird that touches down for a few seconds. That was how we surprised the enemy. And Kitty I am not just saying this when I say he was one of the best at it.”

Doc’s response filled my heart with pride; a pride that helps mend this slowly healing heart.

Yesterday, I was again out running errands, traveling the same expressway, listening to a different playlist, more upbeat. “Hey, Soul Sister,” by Train was filling the Jeep. This time there were big fluffy pillows dancing in the azure sky. A jet from Selfridge pierced the clouds, a solo jet, demanding control of the sky. I watched with awe and amazement, as the jet angled into one of those big sweeping turns. My eyes did not fill with tears, instead they filled with wonder and deep appreciation for all the sacrifices our military make to keep us safe.

When Shane was passionate about something – he gave it his all. This is the Shane that the Army had – one hell of a soldier. A man so proud to be part of the legacy of the 101^st Airborne Division, 1/327^th, Bravo Company, a Bushmaster! A man that paid the ultimate price to help make the world a safer place. A man that I proudly call, my son, my Shane Michael, my Moe…

As Doc concluded (Doc has a real name, and it is Hector, but he will always be Doc), “Kitty, I also wanted you to know that some of us were sitting around talking, and we realized that we all had the same feeling in our gut. The company is not the same without Shane there. We miss him very much. Some of us find it hard to express ourselves, but believe me we talk about him all the time.”

I believe you, Doc! I talk to Shane and about Shane all the time. I am grateful to have a loving family and wonderful friends that share stories and fond memories of Shane. We have all been truly blest to have had Shane in our lives.

As we continue to live our lives without Shane, remember to “put one foot in front of the other,” as we strive to heal and stay strong.

Peace-

Always and forever,

Shane’s Mammy and Beth’s Momma

"I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot, I guess not"

Shane and I are driving in the car somewhere. I am driving, like always, because Shane doesn't like to drive. He is sitting in the passenger seat. I declare that it's my turn to pick some music. 


I put on one of my favorite songs, "Kids" by MGMT. Shane has never heard this song, as far as I am aware. At the time, I've never heard the song played on the radio. 


The first 15 seconds or so of the song play. I'm nervous for Shane's opinion because I'm sharing a song that means something to me.


"What is this? More of your terrible world music?"


My heart sinks. 


"Oh, come on! This is my favorite song. It's good! It's MGMT! And it's not world music."

"I don't know; I think it's more of your world music that you try to get me to listen to."


"Fine you don't have to like it but I'm listening to the whole song."


Shane had hurt my feelings without knowing that he had done so. Granted, I didn't write or perform the song. But it really meant something to me and I wanted the song to mean something to Shane, too. It was the sort of song that I could listen to while laying in the grass on a sunny day, looking at clouds and thinking about absolutely nothing.

*          *          *          *          *

I find myself in the car again. I am driving alone, like always. Well over a year has past since Shane and I listened to "Kids" in the car.

I had grabbed Shane's ipod off of the table before I left the house and I'm listening to that on shuffle. Some of the songs are familiar. Some I've never heard. Some are too violent. Some make me too sad. There's a lot of skipping around while I'm driving. A few songs have played, but nothing of note, and I'm on the expressway. A familiar intro comes on, one with the sound of children's voices, and my eyes immediately well up to the point that a normal person might consider pulling over. But I've gotten so used to crying in the car that it seems almost unnatural to not cry. The song is "Kids," by MGMT. A song that Shane called my "terrible world music." And it's on Shane's ipod.

What does this mean, I ask myself. Why is it on Shane's ipod? Did he like the song? Why would it be on his ipod if he didn't like it?

I'll never get the answers to any of my questions. I'll never know why Shane had "Kids" on his ipod. I know that he purchased the song -- the entire album it's on, actually -- but that's all I know. In my mind, I think Shane remembered me playing the song in the car. That he downloaded the album at some point because he wasn't really a "singles" kind of guy. He would have listened to the entire album, from start to finish, because that's what Shane did with every album he ever purchased. And when he listened to the album or a song from it, he thought of me, because I think of him every time I listen to a song that he brought me to.

That could all be a lie that I made up to make myself feel closer to my brother. But, it could also be a fact that makes me feel closer to my brother. I'll never know for sure which one it is, but I know now that every time I listen to "Kids," I will think of Shane.

"My Heart's Been Broke For A While; Your's Been The One Keepin' Me Alive"

Shane-o, if you were alive I would tell you about this song or send it to you. I don't know if you would like it or not, but I have a feeling that you would. So I'm leaving it here for you, because I don't have anywhere else to leave it.

RIP Nate Dogg

Nate Dogg died today. Shane really liked him a lot. Maybe, if there's a heaven or some other magic-fun-place, Nate Dogg is putting on a concert and Shane is in the audience.

Drop the World

Today "I got ice in my veins, blood in my eyes, hate in my heart, love in my mind. I see nights full of pain, days of the same. You keep the sunshine, save me the rain."  


Shane really liked this song. I listen to it when I'm feeling weak, which is fairly often these days, and it makes me feel a little closer to him and a little bit better. So buddy, if you can hear this, it's for you. 
 

"Reach Out and Touch Faith"

Fix You

I wish I knew what this song meant to you. It drives me insane that I don't know. Maybe I don't want to know. I hate Chris Martin's voice and think that Eric sang the song a million times better than he did. I don't understand why Coldplay is famous, really, because I dislike Chris Martin's voice that much. Maybe you didn't like Coldplay, maybe you just liked this one particular song. Sometimes I think that Mom must not have heard you correctly, that you must have wanted a different song played at your funeral. I look for meaning in the lyrics that will connect the song to you, but I can't find anything. Maybe it's because the part of you that connected to this song is a part of you that I didn't know. At least, that's what I've decided in my head.

"Fix You," by Coldplay. 

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down on your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down on your face
And on your face I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
 

Lux Aeterna

This is one of the most beautiful and haunting pieces of music I think I've ever heard -- "Lux Aeterna" (Latin for "the eternal light") composed by Clint Mansell. It's from the film Requiem for a Dream, adapted from Hubert Selby, Jr.'s novel by the same name. The book is difficult to read and the movie is difficult to watch. I went through a phase where I tried to watch the most disturbing movies I could find. At the time, I was having incredibly graphic nightmares, and while I now look back and realize that the films I watch probably just contributed to the images in my brain while I slept, I was trying to prove that other people had thought of terrible things, too, and the movies were evidence of this. 

Requiem for a Dream appears to be about drug addicts, but it's more about the human condition, how warped a conception of the American Dream can become, and how our desires for feeling, for a connection of any kind, often leave us completely and utterly alone.  The last scene of the film includes a very graphic sex scene, but is also one of the most beautiful pieces of film I've ever seen. The first time I watched it, I forgot to keep breathing because I was so captivated with what I was seeing, tears streaming down my face, my mouth partially agape as the film finally came to its end. It finds all four of the main characters alone, in the fetal position, having finally succumbed to their demons and delusions. 

When Shane and I were both living at home, I came home from school one day to find him in the TV room. 

"I watched this movie today," he said, holding up the case to Requiem for a Dream. 

"Oh yeah," I replied, "And what did you think?" 

"It was pretty fucking sick. But ... it was good." 

"You liked it?"

"I'm not gonna want to watch it every day, but yeah, I liked it." 

I don't know why particular vignettes stick out in my memory. Why I remember that particular 30 seconds of my life but forget others entirely. Maybe it's because Shane and I didn't always agree on what movie to watch or what was good or what was bad. 

Shortly after he was killed, I was going through his iTunes library on his home computer, and I found multiple versions of Clint Mansell's "Lux Aeterna." It was a connection that I had with Shane that I never knew about until after his death, the sort of thing that makes me both happy and sad all at the same time. 


I had a nightmare last night. It was the kind where I feel like I haven't been breathing the entire time I've been asleep, my whole body is frozen and I can only open my eyes before regaining control of my limbs, which are all on pins and needles. I sucked in a gasp of air and while I did so thought about Shane, telling myself to not be afraid of some images in my mind when I know the nightmares that he has and lives are much worse, somehow forgetting that he was dead. By the time I exhaled I had succeeded in reminding myself of the events of the past 45 days. Right now, I've come to hate the moments where I fool myself into thinking that Shane is still alive, but just deployed, and that he'll be home in about 4-5 months. During the few couple weeks of Shane's death, I loved these moments. They made the rest of the day a little bit more bearable, knowing that I would have a brother who is alive and well for a few seconds each morning. But now, they're cruel little jokes that my mind plays on me, a nightmare in and of themselves.

Shane's Guitars

Before Shane joined the Army, he played the guitar. It was one of the hardest things for him to give up when he joined. Shane had over a dozen guitars. I know nothing about them except that one is an acoustic, one is a bass, and the rest are electric. Now the guitars sit and gather dust or are entombed in cases like caskets. 

The other day, my friend was over. He used to have a band. He can learn to play a song just by hearing it. He has a breathy but strong voice and gets nervous for the first few seconds he plays the guitar in front of others. And I showed him Shane's guitars. My friend opened each case with care and I could hear excitement in his voice as he explained what each one was. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't matter because someone was appreciating and understanding something that Shane loved so much. It made me feel better for a moment. It made me feel connected. 

This friend never got to meet Shane and I deeply regret this. I know that he and Shane would have gotten along, that Shane would have approved of him as my friend (something he rarely did) and they probably would have even been friends themselves. That is why on Wednesday this friend has kindly granted my family's request to perform a song that Shane wanted played at his funeral, on Shane's Taylor acoustic guitar. Hearing my friend play this song tonight for me made me fear that this will be the last time I ever hear someone play Shane's guitars. It made me realize that Shane himself will never play those guitars that he cared for so much. I thought of all of the songs that Shane will never learn, all of the music he will never hear, and most of all, of the finality of death. 

Oh, Dear Sister, Trouble Weighs a Ton

We sat in a room that was decorated in order to make its occupants feel as welcomed and relaxed as possible. The lighting was soothing. The colors were neutral. It made me want to vomit. We were at the funeral home, beginning to make arrangements for Shane's viewing. There are so many details that need to be worked out - picking a prayer card, listing the names of survivorship for an obituary, deciding viewing times. I wanted the boulder on my back to be lifted off. I didn't want to think about any of these things. I wanted to be melt down and be absorbed into the carpeting.


As we waited for the funeral director to enter, a man with an army hat entered the room. His face looked familiar but I could not place him. The man shook my father's hand. Dad turned to me, saying "this is Sergeant Williams." I thanked Sgt. Williams for his service, but it didn't click in my head who he was until he sat down. 

Click "read more" for my experience with Sgt. Williams and the day that my family dropped Shane off for BCT. 

Birds Seen Flying Around, You Never See Them Too Long on the Ground

"Mr. Rager, Tell me where you're going, Tell me where you're headed."
"I'm on my way to heaven."
"Mr. Rager, Can we tag along, Can we take that journey?"
--Kid Cudi's "Mr Rager"

My brother loved music more than anyone I know. He was a talented guitar player and has piles and piles of CDs. Even though MP3s are now the most common way we obtain our music, Shane still much preferred owning CDs. Maybe it was the physicality of it all --  the anticipation involved in opening the plastic wrapper, the sound of releasing the disk from its case, flipping through liner notes. But there were many times when I would take him to Record Time and we would wander aimlessly around the store until we had collected our treasures, arguing about which CD would be played first. 

I am much more impatient than Shane, so I would always want to skip ahead. But Shane always insisted on listening to the whole album through, from track one until the end. It was sacred. A ritual for him. 


Kid Cudi's sophomore album "Man on the Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager" came out today. Kid Cudi was one of the few artists that I got to tell Shane about. He was usually slightly ahead of the pack when it came to music. The first time that Shane listened to Kid Cudi was on family weekend during Basic. We were driving somewhere in Georgia, sitting in the backseat with my parents in the front, just like when we were kids on road trips. He was so very quiet and not sure how to act around human beings who weren't in uniforms. He had a hard time being in a civilian vehicle and not being told what to do. I didn't quite know who he was. So I handed him my ipod, telling him to just listen. And he did, to "Pursuit of Happiness." And Cudi's lyrics were something that touched him deeply. He reached over and squeezed my hand, and I knew that he was still my brother. 

I'm not yet able to listen to "Pursuit of Happiness" because it's too much of a close memory for me of Shane. I know it will be a long while before I can hear that song. Before he was killed, "Pursuit of Happiness" was one of the songs that gave me comfort. I would turn it on as loudly as possible in my car and drive to no where in particular, always with the memory of Shane listening to the song in Georgia.  I look forward to the day that I will be able to hear the familiar beat and take comfort in the lyrics again. 

Today though, in Shane's memory, I listened to "Man on the Moon II" from start to finish, without skipping a single track.