March 5, 2013 Caleb's Last Flight Home

March 5, 2013
Denver International Airport
Caleb's last flight home

I don't remember the trip to Denver.
But, I remember walking through the familiar airport -
We had been there so many times - to take Caleb, or to pick him up.
This would be our last time.
I felt sick - how could this be happening?
What do you mean, his last flight home?
I argued with myself - it was like a dream.
Yet, there we were - his family
who loved this son, and brother more than anything.

We walked through crowds of people who had no idea why we were there.
They were about their destinations...some looked more lost than we did.
There were moments of anger -
Why my son?
He blessed this life.
He had purpose.
I wanted to scream -  What is your purpose?
Do you have one?
Please don't just take up space on the planet.
My son gave his life so you could have freedom.
Please don't misuse it, or waste it.

There were people who did know why we were there.
Many reached out with a handshake, a hug, condolences.
Some were military parents/spouses.


We waited on the second level of the airport where you can see
people entering the main terminal from their flights.
At one point, one of my son's said, "There's Dan!"
A group of people were gathering down below.
I knew none of them, but evidently my boys recognized some of them.
We went down the escalator to meet them.
Dan, one of Caleb's Recon brothers was in
that group....
all friends of Caleb's, traveling to be with us.
They introduced themselves and immediately
I loved each and every one.
It was like we'd known one another forever.

The next thing I remember -
Our CACO, SSgt. Miller leading the way.
Caleb's flight had landed.
My husband, my children and I
walked down
a narrow stairway that led to the tarmac.
We stood in silence, waiting for Caleb's flight to make its way down the runway...
The plane stopped near where we stood.
The hatch opened.
Slowly, the flag draped casket was lowered down the ramp.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
So unreal.
Like a movie - only it wasn't.
It was our life.
Marine Honor Guard, dressed in their blues carried the flag covered casket to the funeral car.
Numb, yet grief stricken, we watched.
My son was home.
Yet, I knew more than that - my son was really not there - he is in heaven.
It is burned in my spirit, and soul.
I knew that was his body, but I knew the living, laughing Caleb was already in eternity.
Did it help to know?
Yes, and no.
The separation is still unbearable, but though we grieve, it isn't like those without hope.
I can't imagine going through this and not having hope.

That day we met the two Marines who accompanied Caleb home.
Scott and Mark.
They were not just two Marines -
they had been with Caleb that day, February 26.
They knew him.
They were his friends - his brothers.

They were my heroes (and still are.)
I knew Caleb had not been alone at any time.
Scott and Mark became members of our family that day.
I could see the heartache they felt for my son.
When we hugged, I didn't want to let go -
Part of it was knowing they were heartbroken, too.
The other -
they were the closest thing to my son's life I could touch.

I remember leaving DIA.
People lined the highway with flags.
Escorts drove ahead of us with flashing lights...the funeral car, the honor guard car, our vehicle, and behind us - I had no idea the caravan that was following us till months later.
Every so often, at an exit, the escorts leading the caravan would pull off and more escorts would take over.
It was amazing, very humbling, and so appropriate.

Burlington came into view.
We were home.
My heart caught in my throat and took my breath away as we entered our community.
Cars, and people lined the streets, flags were everywhere - all the way to the funeral home.
There are no words to describe how I felt.
I was so heartbroken, and overcome with sadness, yet before us and behind us was so much support, and honor for my son and his life - for us, his family.

That day I met the family my son left us.
Our local VFW hosted a dinner for us and the Marines.
The restaurant was filled with Marines, Caleb's friends.
I was in awe.
I heard so many stories about my son....and they all had the same theme.
Funny, honorable, humble, wise, motivated, always smiling....
the same Caleb we knew -they knew.

There were tears, and laughter.
As I've said so many times, you can't talk about Caleb without smiles and laughter.
You just can't.

The Recon community surrounded us with so much love.
That night was the beginning of our new relationships...
We got to know the awesome people our awesome Caleb had in his life.
I had tears, but I was honored to be in the company of so many wonderful people.


Caleb.
He left us with the best of the best.
So like him.
♥
So thankful, and humbled by
 the love shown us all around.
♥
So honored and filled with gratitude.
A hero's welcome for a true American hero.
♥

 

*black and white photo from photo images online

Tears and Decisions The Hardest Days Of My Life/Planning Caleb's Service

March 4, 2014
My therapy is writing.
I may be sobbing, but it helps my soul to sort things.

I've been waking up with that heart-ripping feeling that my son is gone.
I don't plan it. It is just there.
Since last week, the open wound has been hit upon afresh everyday.
I don't try to think about it, it just is.
The hardest days of my life - besides that one-thirty knock at the door, have been everyday since.

Those immediate days following our one-thirty am knock at the door are unreal, yet branded in my memory.
My thoughts....
How could I meet with this Marine - this CACO (Casualty Assistance Commanding Officer,) and talk about the things that needed to be discussed?
Who contacted the funeral director? I have no recollection.
But he was there for us, to listen and help.
I'm thankful the Marine Corps took care of so many details in my broken life in those early days.
I remember the day our CACO came and sat down with a binder.
I had to pick a casket.
What?
It had to be a dream.
I got up from the table, and said, "I can't do this."
I walked away.
At that moment my phone rang.
Caleb's commanding officer.
It was a divine appointment.
He was kind, understanding, and spoke to me about the difficult time I was going through,
how I had to make all these decisions...
He was that angel God sent at just the right time.
His kindness gave me strength to go back and sit down, to discuss the service.
I'm glad there were only two types of caskets we have to choose from. I couldn't have handled any more than that.
I'm thankful I didn't have to see them in person.

Today is the fourth of March. I had already picked the casket.
We had met with the funeral director about the service.
I had prayed and prayed about the service.
I remember someone...I don't know who, had said, "It will fall into place."
It had fallen into place.
Ideas came - from above, I'm sure.
My emotions, my thinking was in a fog.

When I think of the time from February 27 to March 6, it is amazing all that had to transpire.
How do parents do the things that need to be done?
How did we go to the cemetery and pick a plot?
I can't imagine how we did it, but I remember the day.
It had to be done.
We drove out and met with the caretaker, and he told us about the available areas.
We walked - as I recall - to the area where we picked the plot.
We didn't go to every area.
Another of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life.
After we picked the plot, we met in the office.
My phone rang.
I needed to go outside for air, anyway, so it was perfect timing.
My sweet, closes friend since we were kids, called me to see how I was.
Another angel sent at just the right time.
I cried and told her where we were.

Somehow we got through that day.

Meeting with the ministers (we had five speakers, two were ministers) was difficult.
How do you plan a service for your child?
That doesn't happen. It just doesn't...that's what my brain kept saying, as I was going through all these steps.
At one point, I felt overwhelmed, claustrophobic - the walls were caving in, and I had to leave the room.
We took a break from the traditional list of the order of things, and talked about Caleb.
That helped a lot.
It worked out.

During those planning days, I had strength that was not my own.
Our home was filled with flowers, food, and our doorbell didn't stop ringing.
I don't remember who all came, but many people came and hugged us.

Sleep?
Yes.
I didn't get much the first couple days, but about the first of March instead of two hours a night, I'd sleep three, then four hours a night.
It was sufficient. I know it was God sent.
The twenty-third Psalm, the ninety-first psalm, the hundred and third psalm...
there were many my sweet husband read to me.

Prayers.
There have been many.
They continue to uphold us.
I know this to be true.
I'm still here.
It hurts beyond anything I've ever experienced.
Some days the pain is so deep I don't think I can take it.
But, somehow, and invisible salve is put over the horrible pain....

God is my rock, and my hiding place.
Right now, I don't feel it.
But, I know He's there.
I have to ride the wave.
I'm barely above water right now.
This storm is rough right now,
but I know -
He promises we will get to the other side.