A Letter To My Son Caleb/ Date May 28, 2015

 Dear Caleb,

I'm sitting at my desk, looking up at our family picture. I remember the night we had those pictures taken and how blessed I felt to have all my children together before you deployed to Iraq.
Oh Caleb. tears stream down my face as I think of you. I miss you more than words can express. My heart is torn and yet so proud. What an honor to be your mom.
I know you'd guffaw that, because in your eyes, you were always, "just Caleb." You never wanted any recognition for yourself, and were always there for others. You gave and lived and laughed more than anyone I know.
Because of your life, my son, my life is so different now.

I want to tell you about the last two weeks.
We went to California for the Recon Challenge. It is always wonderful to be there with your Recon brothers. I always think of you as I watch them do the over-the-top maneuvers while carrying the names of the fallen. I think of you and Mark doing the Challenge and coming in second place - right after you got back from Afghanistan - crazy amazing. Chris and Zach carried your name this year. I'm thinking you already know that. I love spending time with these guys - they always have some "Caleb" stories and of course, I love that. They continue to honor you Caleb. They love you and are so kind to us. ~ Awesome men - like you.
When we got home from the Challenge, I did laundry, re-packed and flew out to Washington D.C. for a TAPS conference and for Memorial Day. TAPS is a really good organization for families of the fallen. I spent time with other Gold Star moms, and got to spend time with Gold Star wives and their little children as well. Oh, Caleb....it broke my heart to see all those little children with no daddies. So many amazing (I know, I should find another word besides amazing....haha.) wives raising and caring for the little lives left in their care. TAPS is good for us - we can talk about you all we want. There are pictures of you and so many others. It is so helpful.

Memorial Day in DC was as it should be. It honored all those who sacrificed their lives, which now includes you.
Guess what - you'll never guess. I rode with Rolling Thunder. Ha! I know, you're saying like Collen said - "Weird....cool, but weird." Imagine your mom on the back of a Harley - it was a trike - ok, so you can imagine that - I know..it's still weird - - but cool. I thought of you while I rode with one of 900,000 bikers who rode from the Pentagon to the Vietnam Memorial Wall. Oh Caleb - there are so many true Americans, Patriots. I heard later from Brian, that one of your and Brian's buddies rode with your name that day. That was so awesome to hear. You are so remembered my dear son.

I had dinner with Brian - met his mom. I find these Recon moms are a lot alike. It was like we were old friends. You might agree with Brian who thought that was a scary thought.
I had breakfast with Kathy and the 'littles'. You'd have so much fun with Chris and Kathy's little children! Maybe you did meet them when you all were in California. I hadn't thought about that. I just know little children love you.
 
While in DC we visited the Pentagon and Arlington Cemetery. At the Pentagon, Secretary of Defense Carter told us "Welcome home....this belongs to you."  I thought of you - it belongs to you - to all of you who gave all.
At Arlington Cemetery - well you can imagine....it is overwhelming and humbling that so many sacrificed their lives for the freedom I have as an American.

Caleb, you didn't live in a conventional box - because of your life, I have been forced out of the box as well. There is no complacency in life. There is no time. You taught me that. Watching your life unfold was amazing. Thank you for not allowing me to be complacent -ever. Yes, I'm serious.
 
I'm fixing steaks tonight - you loved having steak - almost cooked, "with the moo." Salad too - gotta have the healthy stuff.

There are so many honoring your life, and thinking of you - it makes me cry.
You are an amazing man my son. I stand tall. We all do. Dad, your brothers and sister, and I - we stand tall because of you. Because you are our son, brother. You have made such a difference in this life - your life goes on touching and changing lives, including ours.

I met with a lady at TAPS and we were talking about the Bible verse that says, "If a child honors his parents his life will be long on this earth." She shed a different light on that verse and I want to share that with you. It bothered me because you did honor your parents, and you are gone from here. The lady said, maybe we need to look at it in a different way. Your life is long on this earth because your life continues to give, inspire, motivate and challenge others. I like that.
Caleb, I know you know this mom. You know I'm sitting here crying. You also know I cry because I love you and I miss you so much. Time will never change that.
I cry in gratitude because of the fine son you are.
I cry with hope because I know one day I will be able to hug you again, see your face again.

Then, you can take me on a tour of heaven and show me things you've been doing there.
I love you so much my warrior son.
I love you.
~ Mom

And So It Goes

I thought I was doing pretty well, actually.
It's been two years now.
I have hard days, but overall I keep busy, stay pretty "up" for the most part- even though there are tears intermingled.
Recently, I've been told so many things by well-meaning people.....

"What do you mean still being in a state of grief? Doe this grief make you happy? Why do you grieve? Get on with your life. (In other words - be happy like I am. I get over things immediately and am a puffed up Cheeto!)
"You need to choose the alternative to grief."
"You really need to get on with your life...you're stuck in a rut and need to get out and get on with it."
"Move on. Get rid of the pictures (connotation here:  "Act like Caleb never existed.")
"You post too many things about your son. It's just not right."
"About your blog. Write something different."

Whew.
Talk about getting an earful.
So much advice from those who don't have children or have not had to plan a funeral their child.

Right now I feel sick.
Well-meaning (or not) people are making me tired.

"Be tough. Don't listen to them."
That is true.
I should (be tough, and not listen.)
Somehow I am continually blindsided by people who say hurtful things. These are not people I'd expect hurt to come from - that's why it hurts so much, I guess.

A few simple explanations for the well-intentioned:
Grief is not a choice.
(Oh yeah, there is this one - 'You choose to grieve. Grief is not of God,' they say.) On that comment, I know Jesus is acquainted with our sorrows. He wept at the tomb of his friend, Lazarus. He was filled with compassion.
Grief is a natural response to loss. It is the emotional suffering one feels when something or someone the individual loves is taken away.
Believe it or not, it is gut-wrenching to be separated from your child for the rest of your life. It just is...even if you know you are going to see that child again in heaven.
No, grief does not make me happy (hellooo.) I've read that grief is in proportion to the love you have for the person. I love my son (and all my children) with my whole heart and would have gladly given my life for him (them.)
As for an alternative to grief -
Hmmm...let's see. The alternative to grief would be, not having had the experience in the first place.
If my son was here I wouldn't be experiencing that grief.

There is no time limit on grief, contrary to the popular belief by those who have not experienced it...those who think that after one year life returns to what it was before - to 'normal.' Sorry guys - that's not true, and life won't be back to 'normal' ever again. Grief? I hear (from those in authority-those who are a few years ahead in this journey) we learn to live with it...that it lessens a bit in time, but is always there, and can reappear at any unannounced moment.


My life has changed - period. I am not stuck in a rut, waiting for someone to rescue me from my 'sorry' life. I am making my way day by day, with God's strength (that is something I know, whether anyone believes it or not.) He guides and gives me peace (peace that, I admit leaves when these comments come my way.)

I seem to be the topic of some people's expert opinions, "Oh, we should fix her." Sorry - my life is not governed by your judgment of me. My life is not according to what you think it should be and where it should be going.

If you'd like to be helpful (that's a hard one) just accept me. Walk beside me. Know that I do have a Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and He loves me with all my faults, and He actually sends me messages everyday! These messages actually help me through every single moment.
He tells me I am not condemned. I am not criticized by him, but he does encourage and walk with me.
He makes me smile through my tears because his joy is my strength.
He loves me unconditionally.
His grace is sufficient for each day.
He guides my steps and makes me lie down in green pastures (not literally.)
He leads me beside still waters, and restores my soul (which is my mind- will, intellect and emotions - smile here please.)

There are days I don't have a lot of energy, but I do what I can. Yes, even on those tough days.
 And I may not be doing what you think I should be doing, but I'll let you in on a secret - you don't know what I do all day because you are not an active participant in my life day in and day out (a bit of laughter accepted here.)
I am thankful I am not where I used to be.

I am a child of the most High God, and knowing that helps me through each day.
Because I am a child of my Heavenly Father, I know heaven will be my home one day (even though I am not perfect - funny I know, but that's right.)
Because I know I am going to heaven, I know I am going to see Caleb again.
Because I know I am going to see Caleb again, I can smile through the tears.
In all of these difficult days, I have hope - because Christ is my Lord and Savior.
So - all in all....through all the 'stuff' of people, and this life
I can stop now, and breathe.
Who matters?
My God.
He is faithful, and will see me through - broken and made whole because of what Jesus did, not because of anything I can do.

Oh, and about my son. I will keep his memory alive the rest of my days. I will talk about him, write about him, have pictures of him, and think about him. No question about it.
And  just so you know, it is normal. I've talked to the experts.

As for my blog....well here it is (drum roll, whistling and clapping will be acceptable here.) Thank you. Thank you very much.


 It's forward on this journey, now...

“We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, 'Blessed are they that mourn,' and I accept it. I've got nothing that I hadn't bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not imagination.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Chasing the Sun

There are dark nights, nights with no moon, no stars.
Times where tears fall, and pillows bring no comfort.
Times, when the clock ticks, the chime of the hour repeats hour after hour.

In those times I talk to God, I recite many psalms.
Eventually, slumber falls.

I wake, sometimes before dawn.
There are times when,
the minute my eyes open
I have to get out of bed.

There is an urgency as
I get dressed.
I have to go.....
I have to.

I grab my keys, hurry to my vehicle,
back out of the driveway and drive
east, on the country road and wide open spaces.

I drive in a sense of desperation,
my eyes peeled on the horizon.
I have to be there when it appears.
It's like my life depends on it.

When the bright beginning of a new day peeks over the horizon,
I gasp at the beauty.
I usually pull over and park, but
sometimes I keep driving, as if by driving toward it, I can get closer.
As if I can somehow reach out and touch a bit of eternity.

The brilliant, blinding, beautiful sunrise -
My Maker showing me a glimpse of His splendor.
reminding me of promises of peace, hope, joy.

One more day.
I can do it because He is with me.

Yes, that's how it is.
I have to chase the sun.
I have to experience the miracle of the day.

Whether I actually get in my vehicle and chase the sunrise,
or just go for a walk, and look up as sunlight smiles down on me,
I have to have His presence in my life.
like manna for my day.

The sun.
The Son.

A glimpse of the beauty around me, reminding me that He is
majestic, eternal, and full of life and light -
He knows where I'm at on this journey of life,
and He loves me.
He understands, and cares.

Ah, the smile of the sun.

Almost like I can hear my Father's voice.

"Ah, little darling," I hear Him say,  "Here comes the sun."
~Selah.

A Picture Worth Ten Thousand Words

I see your smile and the day brightens,
like sunlight through a window.

What a surprise when I scrolled down the page.
Seeing your beautiful face took my breath away.
My son, my wonderful son.

Seeing your smile, brought a smile to my face,
and it was as if.....
as if you were just gone somewhere for training,
or on deployment,
and you posted a picture with your buddy/brother to say,
"Hey, here I am! I'm doing well."

Refreshing and uplifting.
Your smile, the twinkle in your eyes,
the certainty of joy, and peace.
You were in your element,
loving life.

It brought peace and joy to my heart.

 I sat and enjoyed the presence of your smile,
the spirit of all you are,
right there in the image
that is you.

I scrolled down some more.
Shock.
The room began to spin.
I felt sick.
Another photo - with headlines
"Skydiving Training Accident."

It was like a bad dream.
How could it be?
There was the familiar aerial image -
the flag covering the body,
military brothers close by.

But, it happened two years ago.
Why would it be posted now?
It didn't make sense,
yet I knew what I was seeing.

I read the news report.
The date was yesterday morning.
There must be some mistake.
How could it be yesterday, when is was clearly a sad, familiar picture?

I continued reading.
The man was in the Navy.
That was not my son.
No, he was someone else's son.
In the same place,
doing the same thing,
when a malfunctioning parachute
ended his time here on this earth.

My heart broke for the family of this young man.
They would have gotten the knock at the door.
They would've heard the same words we
heard that early morning at one thirty, about Caleb.
"There has been an accident.
There was a problem with your son's parachute.
I'm afraid there was a malfunction...."

My world came crashing in once again -
At the same time I thought of the family, and the  young Navy Seal.

So close....
two elite groups of men train in similar places - Recon Marines and Navy Seals.
Different.
Yet, brothers.

There was some criticism out there about the photo.
It broke my broken heart.
Yes, it was terrible.
That was someone's son.

I know.

I saw almost the very same picture -
the flag covering the body, not that long ago.
It was hard.
It hurt a lot to know that was my son.
And yet,
from my perspective -

There was honor.
Not shame.

The American flag covered  his body.
What better way to protect, to respect,
to silence those who don't understand.
Nothing else would have sufficed.
The way it should be for any patriot who sacrificed his life.

There was honor in his life.
There was honor in that picture.

He gave his life for that flag.
He knew what that flag stood for.
He believed in what it meant.
He knew the history, the many thousands of
lives that were sacrificed for the
liberty that flag represents.

No, I didn't see it as shameful.
There are many things in this world that are shameful.
Many things that should not be shown, and yet are exploited
and nothing is said.

My perspective -

There was honor beneath that flag.
I salute my son.
I salute the young Navy Seal.

I go to sleep tonight
with a heavy heart for the family who is beginning this hard journey.
Yet, I am granted once more a glimpse of greatness.
I can see the smile on my son's face.
I see
the image of my son who could stand in peace and confidence, with a smile
because he stood for liberty, and freedom.

There is no shame in that.

March 6, 2013 - I Remember

It's been 739 days
since the last time Caleb and I chatted - his birthday, February 25, 2013.

Two years today, 730 days ago, we paid tribute to his life.
Somehow it doesn't seem like it's been two years.

It still seems like a dream.

I wake up and for a second it's like old times when we were all together.
Then, the next second, it hits again -
The rip-your-heart-out, gut-wrenching feeling...nothing is the same.
Missing Caleb so much.

Days like this, I swallow the big lump in my throat.
Tears come.
Memories.....

What I remember about two years ago -
Early in the morning, before the
'busy' started, I took Griz for a walk.
We walked to the funeral home so Griz could say farewell  to his buddy,
his master.
I stood before the flag draped casket, guarded by two Marines at all times.
Griz sat.
I put my head on the casket, covering the flag with tears.
"Thank you."
That was all I could say.
"Thank you Caleb. I love you."
"Thank you.
Thank you for being a wonderful son.
Thank you for caring about us.
Thank you for being so generous.
Thank you for the laughter.
Thank you for making us laugh.
Thank you for being in our lives.
Thank you for being so strong and brave.
Thank you for being my son....
Thank you for loving us, for loving God.
Thank you....."

All the while, Griz sat by the head of the casket.
Like he knew.
He sat at attention for Caleb.
I wish I had a picture of that.
But, it is forever in my heart.

From February 27 to March 6 there was a steady stream of visitors, phone calls,
food, flowers.
This day was just as busy.
As we were getting ready for the service, the doorbell continued to ring.

Two hours before the service we were to meet....at the funeral home?
I think so....
We followed the funeral car and honor guard to the high school where the service would be held..

When we got to the school,
students stood, lining the halls.
I will never forget.
I don't know who they all were,
but I am filled with gratitude for those who stood for
a few hours in silence, waiting for us to arrive.

It was like a dream, walking behind the flag draped casket....
a reminder of my son's sacrifice.
I'd seen this sad scene over and over in the news, in movies,
but this was not a movie - it was not someone else's life.
This was real life - my life.

I remember being back in the commons area before the service, after the casket was set in the gym.
I remember, crowds of people
coming in every door.
People coming from every direction with words of comfort - so heartfelt and sweet,
but it was too much at that time.
We needed a time away from the public.
The school secretary locked the door leading to the commons area,
so we could just 'be' for a few minutes before the service started.

I looked around, and Marines surrounded us.
What a comfort.
These were Caleb's brothers.

As we lined up,
Mark, Caleb's Recon brother, was right beside me.
The Marines walked in and sat with us.
I remember - I was firm on that.
They would sit with us.
They are family.

While waiting to walk in,
the words that poured from my heart at that time -
The joy of the Lord is my strength.
The joy of the Lord is my strength.
Over and over...it would be His strength that would get me through.

I remember Pastor Viergutz praying.
I think Psalm 23 was recited...anyway, I remember it was in my thoughts (that was the psalm my husband recited to me many times during those days and nights. He'd finish and I'd ask him to read it again and again.)

When we got to the door of the gym and I looked inside
at the flag draped casket, the flowers, the hundreds of people.
My knees turned to jello,
but just as quick, the Lord strengthened me.
My arm in Mark's, there was strength from him, from my husband, from so many prayers being said on our behalf.

The gym was filled with people standing in silence,
there to honor my son.

That was what it was about.
Honoring Caleb's life.

When we were planning the service,
we wanted  people to know Caleb.
If there was anyone there who didn't really know him,
we wanted them to leave with a knowing
about this wonderful son who lived life with purpose,
and wanted nothing less for others.

Since March 2013,
many people have told me they left the service feeling like they knew Caleb.
His life touched theirs.
He impacted and changed their lives.

I miss my son so much, and this is a difficult day,
but knowing his life lives on in all the lives he touched,
helps so much.

Yes, in the midst of the sorrow there is joy.
In a stream of tears there is a smile.

Thank you Caleb.
♥

Enduring Right On

Ok, I'm going to write this one and actually post it.
I promise.
I've written since November when I last posted a blog,
but all that writing is in my archives.
Not this one.....
You've got my word (words.)

Days go by.
Some are a little easier than others, but they all have heartbreak.
A couple of days ago I woke up with that ripping apart that was so intense
it was like it had all just happened.
It was like the earth opened up.
I cried out to God. "I can't do this."
He knows that.
Together we made it through the day.
Oh no one knew how my morning had been.
No one ever really knows - unless you're my husband,
and I know when I wake up in tears it makes him sad, too.

I don't know why it seems that I should just be over it, as one well-meaning woman said.
"Well, it's been well over a year...I'd think you'd be over it by now."
No lady.
That's not how it works.
When I said it was a rough day,
the response was, "Well, God will take care of it," and off she went.
Yes, lady, God will take care of it.
God has carried me through these hard times.
"You should just be praising God because you know where Caleb is."
I do praise God that I know I will see my son again.
But that doesn't mean it's easy being here without his smiley self in our lives.

I'm not mad at the lady.
She doesn't know.
There is no way, she could - she has all her children.
Bless her heart.

I just know where my walk is, and that is all I can handle - and actually, I can't handle that!
Not without my heavenly Father who give me strength and peace.

I don't know where this road is going.
I just follow it minute by minute.
Nothing is as it was.
Absolutely nothing.
I can't explain it, but that's where it is.
I know there is a purpose and a plan and a hope for tomorrow,
but I don't know a lot right now.
I don't know when I'll know more,
but I'll let you know.
It's not like I don't do anything -
it's that I'm getting acquainted with a whole new way of existence and
it does not conform to the twenty-four hour day we live in.
That's the best I can do for explaining.
It's as I said, a minute by minute walk - and it's unpredictable.

Today I thought I could talk about a memorial situation.
I started talking to some people and did all right for a little bit.
Then, I ended up in tears.
It just happened - they just started flowing.

Hearing Caleb's name in the same sentence as memorial
broke my heart all over again.
I left the building, got in my vehicle and started down the street.

A block later I had to pull over.
Sobbing rocked my soul.
My sweet boy....
My fun-loving son....

This is simply a most difficult road.

Not too long ago, I cried out to God
(I actually do that on a daily basis.)
There are times I get encouragement from that still small voice.
Not that time.
He was silent for a while -
like for weeks.
I kept on - hard day after hard day.
Then, one night I was watching football with my husband.
I heard that still small voice -
"Endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ (2 Timothy 2:3.)
I sighed.
It's hard all right.
But, when He put it in those words, I took a deep breath.
Those words were for me.
I could do it.
I could follow His lead.


Soldiers (Marines, Sailors, etc.) don't get entangled with the things of civilian life.
They follow the orders of their commanding officers.
They are trained for difficult situations so they can defend, protect, and stand.
They have to stay focused and continue training everyday.
They endure hardness.
It's not easy.
If it gets too easy, they will get soft, and they can't afford that.
They push themselves.
I know Caleb did.
He pushed beyond his own limits.
What an example.
My son.
He endured hardness as a good soldier of Christ.

Because of Christ, because of Caleb, because of all who have gone before,
I can.

No, it's not easy.
Some days, like today, I break down and cry.
My Commander Most High knows that, and understands.
Together we will make it.
I enlisted, and I'm in this for the long haul.
No, I had no idea this journey would mean my son would leave this world.
But, that doesn't change the plan.
Caleb got promoted to the highest of places - heaven .

I will continue
marching on -
tears and all...
enduring.

And
On that day -
I have no doubt,  he will be at the gates
waiting to greet me.

Thanksgiving 2014/ The Best Is Yet To Come

I love when my family is together.
There is nothing like an almost full house.
I wake up knowing bedrooms are warm with silent breathing.

I love holidays.
I'm that mom who decorates and cooks and bakes
and enjoys every moment.

It's Thanksgiving.
Bedroom doors are opening.
Low conversations can be heard in the background.
Turkey aroma fills our house -

I am thankful.
I am thankful for my husband (who is still sleeping,)
for my children.
These are the greatest treasures in my life.

I love the memories we share -
I think about Caleb.

I smile.
I cry.
There is sweet sorrow to the memories.
He was part of years and years of Thanksgivings
and times, like -
'Mom, I'm hungry! When are we going to eat...'
when I thought the turkey was completely thawed but no, it wasn't, and it still needs to cook some more (I think we ate like at 4:30.)

Or the time when Caleb came home with the turkey he shot -
we had two turkeys that year.

All the times of sitting around the table passing the green bean casserole, and mashed potatoes....
Silent eating that would break into laughing and joking and listening to Caleb's stories.

I sigh.
I cry.
I miss him so much.
We all do.

I bought a candle in a glass container.
The inscription on it - "The Best Is Yet To Come."
I didn't really think too much about it
till this morning when I saw it on the counter.

 It was like Caleb was whispering -
Yes, Mom. Enjoy this day with the family, and tell everybody I love 'em.
Oh,
I know it's hard for you.
I know you all miss me.
But, remember -
this world isn't all there is.
You're all on this journey and one day -
yes, one day we will all be together.

Remember Mom,
the best is yet to come.

With that thought, I begin my day.

The best times here are being with my family.

We are blessed.
Today, Thanksgiving,
we will sit around the table, and pass the green bean casserole and mashed potatoes.
There will be a short silence as we pray and eat, and then we will break into conversation and laughter.
There will probably be some Caleb stories.
There will be a candle lit for Caleb because his life and light are always with us.

I baste the turkey in the roaster -
the roaster Caleb and Collen gave me for Christmas
not that long ago.

Yes.  I will enjoy today, - these are the best days here with my family.
 I will also remember -
The Best Is Yet To Come .

It helps to know -
that one day we will all be together and will have the biggest, and best Thanksgiving feast ever, forever!

Selah.