Gold Star Parents Retreat A Heavenly Treat

I was so tired when we got to our room, and here I am…wide awake.

There are so many thoughts swimming through my mind.

This is Gold Star Parents’ weekend at beautiful Steamboat Springs – a time to be with other parents whose children gave all while serving our country.

My husband and I came last year, but I don’t remember much. I do remember the hall of heroes, where hundreds of photos stand in lines on tables, with tiny candles flickering by each one. It was too much to bear. I had to walk away. “We aren’t supposed to be here. This is not our life.” But it was, and it is. Tonight it was still overwhelming, and yet so awesome to see the hundreds being honored, and remembered. Seeing my son's picture still took my breath away, but I am glad we can honor him.

Tonight while visiting the hall of heroes, a fellow GS parent asked me how I was. “You know, when everything is kind of numb? That’s where I am. Ok for now. Who knows how I’ll be later.” She understood.

This is later. As I lay in bed, tears trickled down my face, as they often do in the silence of night when everyone is sleeping. How can it be that my son is not here?

We were chatting with some moms. One said, “When will this ever end?” My reply - “When we get to heaven, and we see them again.” We all agreed and laughed that laugh of understanding. One of the moms lost her son in 1969 in Vietnam. So long ago, and yet in her heart, that longing remains.

Often, there are unanswered questions about  the casualties. After telling us about her son, a fellow GS mom said, "I guess we will find out and have answers to our  questions when we get to heaven." We chatted some more, and I said, "I always think when we get to heaven we won't care about the questions anymore. We will be with them and that'll be all that will matter."  

This journey is hard.... the separation from our children, the questions... the longing and silence.

 And yet, as I was lying in bed crying, the words to a song calmed my heart.

And greater is the One living inside of me Than he who is living in the world

Bring your doubts
Bring your fears
Bring your hurt
Bring your tears
There’ll be no condemnation here....(Mercy Me/Greater)

I feel like we are occupying a space between heaven and earth here at the retreat. We are away from our everyday lives. We can talk about heaven and our children, and about seeing them again. For this weekend, we are in a place where our children line the halls and smile. Vibrancy and youth radiate from their faces. Heroes.

My heart is torn, and I miss my son more than words can describe. I am so proud of my warrior son. Being here makes me feel like I could just reach out and touch his face. I don’t realize how much I hold back from talking about him in the “normal” world. Yet, I understand. it's different here. We are all on the same journey here. For this time we have the freedom to tell our stories. It’s ok to ask, “What happened to your son?” There are many stories of war, and loss. There are so many stories about young men and women who lived exemplary lives, who were funny, and giving and loving.

The bond we share goes beyond this world. Our hearts are tied with eternity.

We come together here for the weekend and hug each other, cry, laugh, and embrace the hope that we share.

Yes.

One day -

We will all be together again.

We will be with those we love forever.

♥

I can't wait, Caleb. 

Friday on Paradise

It was a cold, and rainy morning.
I crawled out of bed, peeking at a new day.
Like everyday-
the punch-in-the-stomach, break-your-shattered-heart feeling
reminded me of this never welcome reality.
Like everyday-
I got dressed to go for a walk.
It helps.

Since it was cold, I put a sweater on Griz
and we headed out the door.
As we walked, I noticed he was walking kind of funny.
I encouraged him.
"Come on Buddy."
He wasn't limping...just walking kind of like a weeble wobble, back and forth, and not very fast.
I stopped a couple of times.
"Come on Griz."
He continued his slow gait.
"What's wrong?"
He seemed to frown at me.
"Ok, then. Let's try this."
I pulled his paws through the sweater.
"How's that? Better?"
He shook his head, as if to say, "Sheesh."
He shook his whole body. "Free at last."
The rest of the walk was fine.
He got his point across.
He just didn't like the sweater.

Smart dog.

I like to listen to music when we walk,
whatever suits me at the moment.
This morning's moment was
The Jersey Boys and Oldies Station.

I thanked God for the day...prayed for friends and family.
I talked to God as I look at his creation.
A quiet day, except for the early morning traffic of a small town.

I don't know what happened, but Griz
got wrapped around a pole...don't ask me how, but it happened.
As we danced around the pole getting his leash unwound, I began to chuckle.
We continued on our way, and I found myself singing, and doing a little dance with Griz.
By the time we got to Paradise, I was skipping to the music - not a kid skip but more of a Caleb skip.
Of course, his was manly, mine was just a scoot...maybe it really wasn't a Caleb skip, but he was on my mind when I did it. I think that counts.

Right after I got home a friend brought me some fresh produce from her garden.
Her smile always brightens my day.

I got my new microwave installed this morning.
I really like it.
When the timer goes off, it plays a little tune.
How cool is that.

I had lunch with a wonderful friend.
We hadn't seen each other for a while.
We laughed, and caught up.
What a blessing - great visit, and great Thai food.

I was on my way home.
It was my plan.
But, I ended up downtown with road blocks everywhere.
I had a feeling I was wrong about the Homecoming parade.
I was sure it was over.
No.
It was just starting.
So, I parked.

There is something about small town parades.
Homemade floats with happy kids, laughing and talking -
and throwing candy.
There's the high school band - which, by the way, now has bagpipes.
I was impressed.
There were dirt bikes and four wheelers.
There was the familiar Hitchcock train with preschool kids,
and even the pig was in the parade - the famous 'kiss a pig' had his own float.
Queen candidates ride in a convertible, and everybody waves at everybody
-because everybody knows everybody.
It's sweet.
It's home.

I waited till I got in my vehicle.
Then the tears came.
It's just how it is.
The wave hit, like it does...totally unannounced.
Memories of  a life that has passed beyond this world.
Grief hits when it chooses.

I came home.
A friend called, and we talked about the bagpipes.

I talked to my husband.
I think we're going to the Homecoming game.
Maybe.
Sometimes I can.
We'll see.

It's like this.

I live.
I laugh.
I cry.
Every day is different,
yet the same.

I'm home now, at my desk.
Griz lies at my feet, snoring.
In the sorrow, there is peace.
Through the tears there is joy.
I'm not alone.
It's another day on Paradise.