tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-294835712024-03-13T08:39:27.369-07:00We RememberA mother remembers the days following the death of her soldier son, and other reflections.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.comBlogger214125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-6697653292275709712020-01-22T17:56:00.000-08:002020-01-22T18:08:39.686-08:0015 years later . . .It's January of 2020. Thomas has been gone over 15 years. People born in 1984 are 35 or 36 by now, they've established their lives if all has gone well, or they are surveying the train wreck if it hasn't. We Doerflingers have had a bumpy journey though all seems reasonably on track at the moment. I try not to speculate about where Thomas would be if he had survived that day because there is no point and resisting that temptation to say "if only" is vital to everyone's mental health.<br />
<br />
But it is not that we've forgotten or even that his fellow soldiers have forgotten. My hope for those guys is that they will do the best they can to live lives that honor the sacrifices made for them, though I know that sometimes it is hard to find the way (and yes, I think Thomas would have loved "The Mandalorian"). For myself, it's been a little harder since moving to Washington state. I'm a member of the Washington chapter of the American Gold Star Mothers now but we are a more diffuse bunch than our Maryland chapter. In the last year I've gone to a meeting of a Quilts of Valor group that is very productive, then to a ceremony where four of their quilts were presented to World War II veterans ranging in age from 96 to 101. The oldest vet insisted on walking home on his own. And I've volunteered to visit a veteran locally since September--once a week I spend an hour or so at the home of this veteran and do a few tasks for him. I've learned a lot of local history this way!<br />
<br />
We move forward, we don't move on. We have this burden that we carry every day: it doesn't get lighter, but we get stronger.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-86036387758481265142019-02-11T14:57:00.000-08:002019-02-11T14:57:48.248-08:00Trespassing on my TerritoryI like to think that I post less frequently because I'm doing so well with my grieving and don't have a lot new to say but the truth is more like "I'm tired of being a bereaved mother and I don't want to think about it any more" except ignoring it doesn't really seem to be working. I am still here, working it out, and occasionally having moments when it's just as hard as it's ever been. <br />
<br />
So, on to my topic, two incidents. This first one is just going to sound petty but here we go:<br />
<br />
I was really surprised to see the Democratic women wearing white to the State of the Union address last week. My first thought, honestly, was "where did they find all the white suits?" and my second was "Why?" Google supplied the answer to the why--they were apparently honoring the suffragettes who had campaigned until they won the right to vote for women. Now, American Gold Star Mothers wear white to official events, and I've even worn a white suit in that very chamber of Congress as an invited guest in the gallery. We are often referred to as the "ladies in white" and, while I hate being that conspicuous, it does make us easy to identify and locate in large crowds. To see this other group of women wearing white for a whole different cause was sort of jarring. I realize they have every right to do so but I felt a little devalued by their demonstration. They almost certainly had no idea of this other meaning of wearing white, few people do, but a little research might have avoided some hurt feelings. (However, a cursory search in Google on "ladies in white" or women in white reveals several meanings, none of them having to do with Gold Star mothers. Maybe Google needs to get its act together too.)<br />
<br />
And then a much more personal violation. Someone used my email address, the one I created when I started this blog, to reserve a hotel room for three nights in Montego Bay. I called the chain in question and explained my concern and they acted very quickly to make sure that no credit card had been involved. The address does refer to my status as a mother who has had a loss and the customer service representative picked up on that immediately. So there I was once again explaining Thomas to a very kind stranger. No harm seems to have been done to me or any of my accounts but I'm not happy that someone used an email I created for this very specific, not easy, purpose.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-81893598199034878402018-06-27T10:43:00.001-07:002018-06-27T10:46:37.945-07:00Memorial Day 2018 Part TwoI looked back over what I wrote yesterday and I must say that is not a model of entirely coherent speech. But I said at the beginning, twelve years ago, that I was not going to edit once I pushed the publish button (except for egregious spelling errors): I write this from the heart and my heart sometimes has to grope around for the right words. Word order is a secondary task.<br />
<br />
Our second stop on Memorial Day was on Ft. Lewis. Last year we got our Gold Star Family ID cards that let us go on post without an escort or (further) paperwork but we had never actually used them. This time we drove right up to the main gate, showed our cards and were waved right on in. It was the least stressful entrance process that I've ever gone through at a military installation and I really appreciate that. When we lived in Maryland, I would go to Ft. Meade from time to time and going through the gate always left me shaky and a little tearful. The day I couldn't figure out how to raise the hood of my car was painful. Anyway, the experience at Ft. Lewis was light years better.<br />
<br />
Thanks to Google maps, we drove right to the Memorial Park, which is a beautiful square block filled with memorials from the various Stryker Brigades. I think the one from Thomas's unit was the first created: we saw it in 2005 before it was moved to the park. We parked across the street and walked up to the stone. And OK, here is where I get hazy. There were a couple of guys standing around (later I found out they were not in Bravo Company and weren't part of the group I had kind of arranged to meet). There was a bunch of Army people in dress uniforms at one of the other memorials, obviously preparing for a ceremony. Richard and I basically stood and waited to be approached. And, in due time, Timothy arrived and walked up to greet us. One or two other guys showed up. We stood and they chatted about the deployment, about Thomas, about other guys they had lost. We speculated about the ceremony that was obviously going to be held (I realized later that I knew at least one of the families that attended). The men we were not meeting cracked open a couple of beers in memory of their friends and kept talking. Eventually it was time to go so we said goodbye and got in our car to head home.<br />
<br />
We had left our flag flying at home the day before, contrary to etiquette which demands that you take in the flag in darkness (if the flag is lit up you can leave it out). We just hoped our solar lights had stayed bright through the night.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jFhltca6tUo/WzPMOszXL9I/AAAAAAAAR2I/AI6wzGTK4JUjvMuzN_9zjwGEaX16HFg4QCKgBGAs/s1600/20180528_122633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jFhltca6tUo/WzPMOszXL9I/AAAAAAAAR2I/AI6wzGTK4JUjvMuzN_9zjwGEaX16HFg4QCKgBGAs/s320/20180528_122633.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Thomas's name is third down on the far left. He was the first Deuce Four man lost.</div>
<br />Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-8702158201136334892018-06-26T09:19:00.000-07:002018-06-26T09:19:14.797-07:00Memorial Day 2018, Part 1It's been over a year since I wrote in this blog, a sign of healing, moving forward maybe, or maybe just an exercise in denial. I still miss Thomas, and I think about him daily, but life has settled down greatly since those early days. I forget sometimes how very much it hurt when they told me he had been killed. The ambush moments nearly disappear and I do not seek them out. Nonetheless, they still find me occasionally, and one of them got me on Memorial Day. Well yeah, you might say, Memorial Day is bound to be a vulnerable day and I should have been a little more prepared but here it is:<br />
<br />
Since moving to Washington state, very few people (comparatively) are aware of our Gold Star Family status. We've been to several events with the American Gold Star Mothers chapter here but for the most part we've stayed quiet. This year I suggested to my husband that we go to Dupont so I could run with the original chapter of Wear Blue:Run to Remember and then we could go to Ft. Lewis and visit the Stryker Brigade memorial there, possibly seeing a couple of the guys who had served with Thomas. This would let us honor and remember Thomas within a community, but quietly, which is what I think he would have preferred.<br />
<br />
So, that is what we did. I emailed Wear Blue to let them know we were coming, made a hotel reservation near Gunpowder Park where they meet up on Saturday mornings, and let a couple of Deuce Four guys know when we would be on Ft. Lewis (or JBLM as it is now known, old habits die hard!). The morning of Memorial Day we caught a bus provided by Wear Blue to the park, about an hour before the run was scheduled to start.<br />
<br />
Oh my gosh. There were hundreds of people, there was food, there was a banner with the names of those KIA in OEF/OIF, there was music. It was huge but I knew that a couple of other Gold Star moms were going to be there too. Somehow, we spotted each other (and no, I don't really remember how we did that because we weren't dressed in our customary white and I didn't know the first mom I talked to at all before that day). I am so glad that I got to meet them! I also got to greet Lisa Hallett, who I had met several times on the Blue Mile of the Marine Corps Marathon in DC (Thomas's big sister Anna ran for Wear Blue in the MCM in 2016 as a Gold Star Athlete).<br />
<br />
Around 9 the official event started. We had a couple of short speeches, a prayer, and a gigantic Circle of Remembrance, and then the run began. We went in waves, running through the park and the surrounding neighborhood with the help of the Dupont Police Department (and maybe the fire department too? I was pretty dazed by then). I followed in the footsteps of many, many people, remembering not only Thomas but the young men and women whose families I've gotten to know over the years since 2004. I remembered those families too, the moms and dads and siblings, and the wives and children of the fallen. I remembered those still fighting and prayed for them to come home safely. <br />
<br />
It was a three mile run, not timed, just steps to dedicate, steps with purpose. I chatted a little with others but mostly just ran in my own zone until I turned a corner and realized that they had put up placards with pictures of the fallen that I was used to seeing on the Blue Mile of the MCM. They were in chronological order because some of those names I knew of course and I counted down, past Chase Whitham whose mom had been the first Stryker family member to contact me, and then I saw Thomas's face. This was my ambush moment and I just sobbed, all of that grief still there. An arm went around my shoulders and I was surrounded by a little family concerned to make sure I was all right. They kindly stayed with me until I calmed down and was able to smile again, and we took a couple of pictures because in this era of cell phone cameras, that's what we do. I bless them every time I think about that moment.<br />
<br />
Eventually I finished the run, met my husband, had a little lunch and then walked back to the hotel. I showered and we headed off to Ft. Lewis to the memorial park.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--gppYOHJtgM/WzJmzyEN6GI/AAAAAAAAR04/fqaUZCPGVMYuZhqUMSs1cJ85k0pnpWS-gCKgBGAs/s1600/20180528_100700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--gppYOHJtgM/WzJmzyEN6GI/AAAAAAAAR04/fqaUZCPGVMYuZhqUMSs1cJ85k0pnpWS-gCKgBGAs/s320/20180528_100700.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f7md9kTORXI/WzJmz_lUWSI/AAAAAAAAR04/w9YagnTnSLUMOlSS_weoLpg7v1fT67e6gCKgBGAs/s1600/20180528_100452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-f7md9kTORXI/WzJmz_lUWSI/AAAAAAAAR04/w9YagnTnSLUMOlSS_weoLpg7v1fT67e6gCKgBGAs/s320/20180528_100452.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3mG6xVJRKdY/WzJmzwlRvlI/AAAAAAAAR04/Hczc6gJp5nAiyA5fTJCmXIQtArYVqzd2QCKgBGAs/s1600/20180528_082427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3mG6xVJRKdY/WzJmzwlRvlI/AAAAAAAAR04/Hczc6gJp5nAiyA5fTJCmXIQtArYVqzd2QCKgBGAs/s320/20180528_082427.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EKRz_x_OsVc/WzJmz6FtYBI/AAAAAAAAR04/-cSb2yaOibIDCuq28ZuG9QuzzItXlxAtACKgBGAs/s1600/20180528_085558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EKRz_x_OsVc/WzJmz6FtYBI/AAAAAAAAR04/-cSb2yaOibIDCuq28ZuG9QuzzItXlxAtACKgBGAs/s320/20180528_085558.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-27309887875416343942017-05-14T15:38:00.000-07:002017-05-14T15:38:27.143-07:00Mother's Day 2017It is Mother's Day! I've heard from my kids, people have posted pictures, we've prayed for our moms, living and dead. My gift for the day is some quiet time while Richard goes into Mt. Vernon to shop for groceries. The idea was that I would sew in peace. When he left, the sky was grey and it did not look good for outdoor activities, but now the sun has come out (this happens a lot) and I feel like I'm wasting a beautiful day!<br />
<br />
Before I got to that point I did spend some time in my sewing room. I finished a quilting project for a Deuce Four soldier's baby son just last week and had to clean up the debris--spare fabric, trimmings that I keep thinking I'll find some use for, the pattern I misread--in order to have space to cut anything else out. You can see where this is going. One of the things I wanted to do in that quilt was add a little bit of Thomas, so I had cut a little bit from his desert BDU shirt? jacket? and added<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IxoTpJ0jch8/WRjb1fTcaFI/AAAAAAAAOPw/1ZP59AvrZAE19KVcWZ3yvbvPqoyVCyxXgCLcB/s1600/DSCN0620.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IxoTpJ0jch8/WRjb1fTcaFI/AAAAAAAAOPw/1ZP59AvrZAE19KVcWZ3yvbvPqoyVCyxXgCLcB/s320/DSCN0620.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
some chips of that fabric in the corners of a block. So I've had a couple of uniforms and his combat boots sitting in that room for several months while I figured out what I was doing. They've all been in a heap on the floor and I have ideas for using more of the fabric, but it just needed to be straightened up to fit in the room better. The desert piece I'd already cut and handled. The jungle piece: I suddenly realized that the sleeves are rolled up. The things he took to Iraq were meticulously folded when they came to us--this must have been in the stuff he left in storage when they left Ft. Lewis. <br />
<br />
Rolled sleeves. I'm pretty sure Thomas was the last one to wear this uniform, and clearly he had not had time to get it laundered before they left. I looked at the boots, looked at the uniforms, and decided that the sewing part could wait for another day. There's no smell of young man that I can tell, nothing to bury my nose in (and after twelve and a half years, no surprise) but I folded it all back up relatively neatly and put it down. Another day.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-88787550146606701872016-10-19T19:24:00.001-07:002016-10-19T19:25:10.405-07:00New Home, New StartWe finally sold our home in Silver Spring, Maryland at the end of August. It was not without hiccups but we prevailed in the end. The next biggest challenge turned out to be buying a new home in the Skagit Valley, near my sister in Washington state. Houses in Mt. Vernon, our intended destination, proved elusive. If I expressed an interest in one, it sold that day. If we attempted to put a contract on one, someone else had a more attractive offer. Many sellers did not want to bother with a contingency offer (which, considering our experience, was wise). In the end, my nephew Brian found online a house in LaConner, a small, historic town on a saltwater channel. Generally, houses in La Conner would be too expensive but this one was the right size and the right price, tucked away on a side street without a majestic view but definitely more scenic than our previous residence. So here we are<br />
<br />
If there is a downside to living in La Conner, it's that it is a tiny town in the middle of large fields devoted to agriculture of one sort or another: crops, livestock, dairy cattle. The town itself is laid out along the channel and over a rocky hill that is essentially across the street from the water. We are behind the hill. It makes being a runner difficult because it is all pretty small or too well-traveled by logging trucks. I've been driving to the southern end of the trail along Padilla Bay, the other end being near my sister's home in Bayview, and running along this stretch. It's safer to be off the road and the ground is level. And, Thomas walked there with us twelve years ago, just before he left for Iraq. In fact, he ate lunch with the family, including cousins, in downtown La Conner on that weekend, in the La Conner tavern, a place we pass nearly every day while walking Kolbe. I nod to the memories and go on. It was a good time. <br />
<br />
This is a picture of the Padilla Bay trail this past Monday. I was surrounded by birds, herons that led me along the trail in both directions, and an eagle that swooped by, maybe twenty feet away. Memories kept me company. Though this looks lonely, I was not alone by any means.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uN3BOwtk7_4/WAURKLLlZYI/AAAAAAAAM0s/-oX77ZSYvfIZnVXIaG7BysuoPQsIcj3jwCPcB/s1600/20161017_092701.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uN3BOwtk7_4/WAURKLLlZYI/AAAAAAAAM0s/-oX77ZSYvfIZnVXIaG7BysuoPQsIcj3jwCPcB/s320/20161017_092701.jpg" width="262" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-27793238037199291502016-07-06T18:35:00.000-07:002016-07-06T18:35:35.121-07:00July 6, 2016, another birthday in heavenWe are trying to sell our house. It's been a more difficult process than we anticipated with two contracts falling through (one after we'd spent about a thousand dollars and several weeks complying with their wishes following inspection. Oy!) but we think we may be winding to an actual close. It seems odd to be leaving the house where Thomas from nine years of age to 18 and where he returned to visit during his time in the Army, but I am comforted by a dream a friend had a year or so ago, with Thomas, silent as always, leaning on the tree in the front yard and nodding approvingly as we carry things out of the house to a truck.<br />
<br />
Today would have been Thomas's 32nd birthday. Had he lived, maybe he would have finished college, been married, even had a child by now. It is more than useless to speculate and I almost never let my mind go down these paths. This is not what happened. He's gone. What did happen instead? Truthfully, I have been blessed by the events in this alternate universe. I have made friends for life among the mothers and among the men, no longer so young, who served with Thomas. I have found some purpose in nudging things toward the better for veterans, and for the bereaved. It doesn't make up for his loss, but it helps me make sense of his loss. I've learned to just be grateful for these friendships and for this different purpose in my life, despite the reason they came to me.<br />
<br />
It's not a betrayal to be selling this house, but a moving forward. My husband and I are planning to move to Washington state where I grew up and where Thomas lived the last year and a half of his life. It is some comfort to me that he spent time wandering the waterfront in Olympia, a place I spent a lot of my childhood because my maternal grandmother lived there, along with, at various times, my aunts and uncles and my cousins. Members of my mother's family were among the earliest settlers in Olympia--I am so glad my son got to spend time there.<br />
<br />
This is a little disjointed--as I said, it's been a long day--but I wanted to observe Thomas's birthday. We got to the cemetery to place flowers and a couple of flags, but it was incredibly hot and we did not linger. He's been on my mind all day, from my 2.26 miles in the humidity this morning to this very moment . . .<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sYJnZJNx5PY/V32xAbQjo9I/AAAAAAAALpw/whGnAp95M6A6SY0fbuF4w3vaCv9WJuDbACKgB/s1600/20160706_153406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sYJnZJNx5PY/V32xAbQjo9I/AAAAAAAALpw/whGnAp95M6A6SY0fbuF4w3vaCv9WJuDbACKgB/s320/20160706_153406.jpg" width="180" /></a>This afternoon at Gate of Heaven cemetery.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hsg2Gr08jOY/V32xUye2qdI/AAAAAAAALp4/tifSK6Gjrwcun5pnSmqwDEC1zcIpm39lACKgB/s1600/20160706_072550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hsg2Gr08jOY/V32xUye2qdI/AAAAAAAALp4/tifSK6Gjrwcun5pnSmqwDEC1zcIpm39lACKgB/s320/20160706_072550.jpg" width="180" /></a>This morning, following my run.</div>
<br />Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-86419109440444390242015-11-20T13:02:00.000-08:002015-11-20T13:02:34.963-08:00Beginning againSo, it has now been eleven years since Thomas was killed in Mosul, Iraq. On the 11th anniversary, 11/11, the weather was perfect, as it had been here that day. This is what we did:<br />
<br />
Anna and I aimed to run 11 kilometers in honor of 11 years. In the last year, a local meet-up of Wear Blue: Run to Remember has gotten very active in Columbia, Maryland. They usually meet at Centennial Lake, a man-made lake in Centennial Park (go figure), because it is about 2 and a half miles around the lake on a paved path that is well-maintained. These meet-ups usually happen on Saturday mornings but the leader, Chris, proposed a Veterans Day meetup in addition. Much conversation ensued and we all settled on 7 a.m., with Grandpa Richard designated as child-minder and dog-walker, while Anna and worked our way around the lake three times. Leah's other grandpa, Bob (an ultra-marathoner and a veteran) came to run too, and Jessica, one of the chairs of the Montgomery County Veterans Collaborative brought her baby in a stroller, and a number of the Wear Blue regulars came as well. We held our Circle of Remembrance, and we all remembered Thomas (Army Specialist Thomas Doerflinger echoed around the circle) and then we ran in the gorgeous, breezy morning, realizing we had all done a very Thomas thing. No one thought to set their various GPS devices or pedometers to metric measurements as opposed to miles. So, in the end, we kind of guessed our way to the 11 kilometers and probably overshot a little. It was wonderful. Matthew is the best runner of us all, but he's been climbing rocks in Kentucky for the last few months so had to do his purposeful miles on his own.<br />
<br />
Anna had to leave for work so we headed directly home from the run. Maria arrived mid-morning and we set off for Columbia again to have lunch together! (Food featured heavily in this day.)<br />
<br />
Maria had to head back to southern Maryland late in the afternoon, but we did stop at the cemetery for a few minutes before she left. Peaceful.<br />
<br />
We had pizza and beer (and wine) and toasted Thomas with friends in the evening. It was a nice evening, surrounded by friends and family as we observed this anniversary.<br />
<br />
Beginning again though: Today I realized that it has been 11 years since the day after the funeral. This is really the day when we paused and began to think about how the future would look. There was nothing left to plan, just the aftermath of a death. Over the next few months we would have to replace the refrigerator and redo the bathroom (both taxed past their limits by intensive use during November), figure out how to claim Thomas's bank account, sort through some of his belongings and just close the door on others for a while, try to connect with his friends and continue to watch the accomplishments and trials of Deuce Four. We had to figure out how to live with knowing we weren't going to see him again. Still working on that.<br />
<br />
So here we are. The weather today has been beautiful, a little breezy again, a little cooler than it's been for a while. Despite the autumnal feel to the air, it also feels hopeful. Yesterday was grim and grey with rain and fog but overnight it cleared out, making way for blue sky and sunlight. Kind of a metaphor really . . .<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZBXPisr4FQ/Vk-J8OoGvDI/AAAAAAAAJVI/O9fyjMtb1qM/s1600/VeteransDay2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dZBXPisr4FQ/Vk-J8OoGvDI/AAAAAAAAJVI/O9fyjMtb1qM/s320/VeteransDay2015.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This picture is obviously not everyone who was with us that morning but it's who we caught before they left the parking lot, all sweaty!<br />
<br />
<br />
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-10854314803425366382015-07-06T13:38:00.002-07:002015-07-06T13:38:14.146-07:00Veterans Day 2014<em>I left this as a draft until today but I think I want to share it even though it's over seven months old. Lee Ann, 7-6-15</em><br />
<br />
Ten years. It seems surreal. The last few days have just been just: outside of time. I don't know how to describe this. We've been doing things we don't normally do in anticipation of this date, not just because of Thomas but because it is Veterans Day. And Remembrance Day. We are caught forever in that split personality of honoring the living while remembering our own fallen soldier. Today the weather has been unusually warm and sunny for November. As I type, the Concert for Valor is unfolding on the National Mall under cloudy but not rainy skies. My kids are down there in the VIP area, courtesy of TAPS. I'm watching HBO. For the last couple of days I have been wearing my Gold Star banner pin, something I don't do often and worry about when I do. This weekend I put it on and just let it be, mostly just not giving it another thought. No one said anything--not sure if that makes me happy or sad.<br />
<br />
On Saturday night, my husband and I, along with four other Gold Star Mothers and spouses went to a dinner held by the American Veterans Center, honoring veterans from World War II to the War on Terror. It was an incredibly touching evening. Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-15944513578755376042015-07-06T13:35:00.000-07:002015-07-08T15:41:22.363-07:00Thomas's Birthday, 2015Just a little musing today. It's been a long time since I wrote anything but thoughts have continued to perk. I just haven't had the energy to do anything about them.<br />
<br />
Thomas would have turned 31 today. We got to spend his last birthday on earth, his 20th, with him thanks to the 3 weeks of leave he had the summer before they left for Iraq. I remember the day he was born, eight days after his due date, nearly a pound heavier than his sister had been. I remember spending that 4th of July in Sears looking for an iron--I go through irons at an ungodly rate, maybe because I sew with a lot of cotton and always want them as hot as possible--and feeling enormous. Three years later we were back in the same Sears, looking for Thomas who had latched on to a stuffed Thumper and hidden in a clothing rack. We ended up owning Thumper. I'm not sure where Thumper is now but he remained a favored stuffed animal for all of Thomas's little-kidhood and maybe a bit beyond . . . This year, we ended up in the same Sears yet again, this time looking for gasoline additives for our newly-acquired secondhand lawnmower (my husband goes through lawnmowers at the same pace I go through irons).<br />
<br />
Now, here's the thing: Thomas hated mowing the lawn and may have only done it once or twice in his life. He hated the lawnmower because it was so loud. So how did he end up in the Army in a job that seems to have been noise personified?<br />
<br />
We don't have a cake today, at least not yet. Maybe I should go get a cupcake or something to mark the day. Richard and I went to Mass this morning with my friend Debbie, and we went to the cemetery yesterday. I will post a picture from yesterday but also from Memorial Day when we took our granddaughter Leah, Thomas's niece, to visit the grave. <br />
<br />
I am done with my term as president of the Maryland Chapter of the American Gold Star Mothers, as of June 30th. However, I am still in charge of this year's fundraiser, the annual Crab Feast! How did losing my child lead to organizing an event featuring a creature I cannot eat?? Luckily, the menu is significantly larger than that. Anyone interested in eating crabs on September 20th should contact me at <a href="mailto:prewittlad@yahoo.com">prewittlad@yahoo.com</a> <br />
<br />
And now my pictures. I'll try to do more writing--it's not just my blog that I've neglected recently!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w8_8Hj8RtHs/VZrmUGY-0CI/AAAAAAAAAd4/PZk6v4AWIdA/s1600/2015-05-25%2B13.57.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-w8_8Hj8RtHs/VZrmUGY-0CI/AAAAAAAAAd4/PZk6v4AWIdA/s320/2015-05-25%2B13.57.05.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qpQOd8wvASc/VZrl_8uA7qI/AAAAAAAAAdw/IgEkyJdcABM/s1600/2015-07-05%2B10.00.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qpQOd8wvASc/VZrl_8uA7qI/AAAAAAAAAdw/IgEkyJdcABM/s320/2015-07-05%2B10.00.41.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-28734437397982699402014-10-18T19:12:00.002-07:002014-10-18T19:14:36.960-07:00Fall Day Reflections<div abp="126">
It was a gorgeous fall day today. It's harder to love the fall now--it seems like a countdown to Thomas's anniversary every time. A cruel trick that the weather is so lovely, the trees so golden, the air so crisp and fresh. This morning as I walked Kolbe, a dog who was made for autumn weather, the wind kicked up. We were walking under the trees, leaves rustling away and floating down singly from the incredibly blue sky, and remembering a day, maybe 20 years ago, when Thomas was playing soccer on an equally amazing day. A field full of ten-year-olds who had won their game, unexpectedly maybe: a breeze came up and shook leaves down like confetti. A formation of jets flew over, not knowing that they'd joined the celebration. Little boys who looked like they'd found their slice of heaven.</div>
<div abp="127">
</div>
<div abp="128">
No jets today, but the sky was back. Yes, it really was that blue, maybe even deeper. A promise that beauty has not left the world, even if it broke my heart.</div>
<div abp="128">
</div>
<div abp="128">
</div>
<div abp="297" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a abp="298" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ok783bzRaSs/VEMdaCVMsHI/AAAAAAAAAYM/hu0zoEAjQ94/s1600/Fall%2Bday%2B2014%2B(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img abp="299" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ok783bzRaSs/VEMdaCVMsHI/AAAAAAAAAYM/hu0zoEAjQ94/s1600/Fall%2Bday%2B2014%2B(1).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div abp="300">
</div>
<div abp="301" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a abp="302" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ujCt93p3AU/VEMdacPmZzI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/w7OQqBURqWs/s1600/Fall%2Bday%2B2014%2B(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img abp="303" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6ujCt93p3AU/VEMdacPmZzI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/w7OQqBURqWs/s1600/Fall%2Bday%2B2014%2B(2).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-59587944469937403702014-09-26T06:25:00.000-07:002014-09-26T06:25:33.522-07:00
<em>I tried to send this to the Washington Post but I was probably too late in the week when I sent it off. Since I haven't heard from them, I'm feeling free to post:</em><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By congressional joint resolution, “t</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">he last Sunday in September is Gold Star Mother’s Day.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The law, first enacted in 1936, states:<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="b"></a> “The President is requested to issue a proclamation calling on
United States Government officials to display the flag of the United States on
all Government buildings, and the people of the United States to display the
flag and hold appropriate meetings at homes, churches, or other suitable
places, on Gold Star Mother’s Day as a public expression of the love, sorrow,
and reverence of the people for Gold Star Mothers” (36 US Code 111). From that
year to this, Presidents of all parties and affiliations have issued these
proclamations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet so few people know
about Gold Star Mothers that I was startled and touched recently when a regular
customer at the store where I work approached me to say, “I did not know you
are a Gold Star Mother.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Purely by
accident she had seen an old interview on our local cable channel, and heard me
talking about my son, Army SPC Thomas Doerflinger, who was killed in Iraq in
2004.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My customer knew about Gold Star
mothers, and she knew that the fact that Thomas had died in military service
made me one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Military survivors are
Gold Star family members -- named for the service flag star which is blue when
a family member is deployed abroad, and is changed to gold if that member
dies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mothers have had a leading
role since the end of World War I, when the American Gold Star Mothers
organization was created and incorporated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Grace Darling Seibold’s son was lost in Europe during that war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She visited military hospitals hoping to find
her son among the wounded, but instead found a calling to comfort the injured
and their families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ultimately other
mothers who had lost their children joined her in this mission, which continues
today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">During these years there
have been times when there were many Gold Star Mothers—the very first one I met
was my uncle’s mother, who had lost a son in the Philippines early in World War
II—and times when they are few.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Vietnam era mothers are very old now, and many are gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People forgot what that Gold Star means
because they did not need to know, and for that we can be grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now we have been at war since 2001.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In that time, over six thousand men and women
have lost their lives while serving their country in the military.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those soldiers, marines, airmen and sailors
have left families behind: wives and children, mothers and fathers, brothers
and sisters. The mothers once again have seen a need and joined together to
help others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not all Gold Star
mothers join the formal organization, but all feel a kinship in our grief and
sorrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are proud of our children and
their decision to serve their country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we are determined that our fallen will not be forgotten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For that reason, you will find us this
weekend at Arlington National Cemetery laying a wreath at the Tomb of the
Unknown, at the Vietnam Memorial, and at the National Cathedral,
remembering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Members of the American
Gold Star Mothers wear white at official events so we are easily found in
crowds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This weekend, if you see one of
the “ladies in white,” I hope you will greet her, offer your condolences, ask
about her child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you can’t visit
a memorial, I hope you will read this year’s Presidential Proclamation and fly
your American flag, while reflecting on the sacrifice that so many families
have made and will make in the future.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-19637596706889352442014-09-10T18:31:00.000-07:002014-09-10T18:31:02.930-07:00Tomorrow it will 13 years since the world completely changed<div abp="296">
It's hard to remember that September 11, 2001 is now 13 years in the past. It's not disappearing in the rear-view mirror: we still see effects. Rebuilding continues, rethinking continues. The entire world is now concentrated on the Middle East, horrified at the development of a group called (depending on the week and your news source) ISIS or ISIL or IS which roughly means the Islamic State in Iraq or the Levant (how many of us really know what constitutes the Levant?) or just the Islamic State. Most Muslims seem to disavow the actions of this group which has posted videos of the beheading of two American journalists. Have they grown out of the rebel movement in Syria or are they descendants of Al Qaeda in Iraq? I may not live long enough to learn the answer--I'm not planning on going any time soon but it may be a very long time indeed before the truth of all this emerges.</div>
<div abp="297">
<br /></div>
<div abp="298">
I know Thomas was worried about the proximity of Mosul to Syria. Mosul has been lost to ISIS (let us call them that for the sake of simplicity), at least for now. I hope in the end he didn't die for only a temporary gain. Though I guess the truth is, it's all temporary. Even the current occupation of Mosul by this group will come to an end some day.</div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-11847339310063023722014-07-06T18:08:00.001-07:002014-07-06T18:11:08.903-07:0030th Birthday<div abp="126">
This post may be a little less coherent than usual. I'm really tired but I just wanted to write this down before the day slips away.</div>
<div abp="127">
</div>
<div abp="128">
Thirty years ago this morning, I finally went into labor with Thomas. He was eight days overdue by then and I was getting tired. He apparently was just putting on fat, as he was 8 pounds and 11.5 ounces at birth, bigger than all of his siblings by a pound. But that day was full of ambivalence too: my mother was dying of cancer and it had finally become a sort of race whether he would be born soon enough to allow me to go home to the west coast and say goodbye.</div>
<div abp="129">
</div>
<div abp="130">
As it turned out, my mother was quite stubborn about the whole thing. Yes, she was clearly at the end but no, she was not going anywhere until we all got there. In fact, she elected to take antibiotics to fend off almost certain pneumonia so that she would be able to see Thomas before she went. We flew to Seattle a week earlier than we had expected to--Thomas was three weeks old but a very healthy specimen--and spent two weeks with her before flying back to Maryland. Mom died a week later, very peacefully, with just my father at home with her. </div>
<div abp="131">
</div>
<div abp="132">
It always seemed to me that Thomas's life was marked by that early sorrow. Clearly, as an infant, he could not have known what was unfolding around him, but somehow he seemed to rise to the occasion. He was a very calm baby, he slept pretty well, he ate (oh, how he ate) without problems. I remember just one fussy afternoon but my mother calmed him down, both of them stretched out on the sofa, until he fell asleep. Carefree, though, he never was.</div>
<div abp="133">
</div>
<div abp="134">
So Thomas's birthday has always been reminder of that time of saying goodbye. This year is not only the 30th since his birth, but the 30th since Mom's death. I still miss her and now I miss him too. We don't have any pictures of that time--we just didn't think to take any because the only camera we had at the time was sort of challenging to use. This is one of the reasons I've embraced digital snapshots so enthusiastically--they are easy to take, they are easy to store, they can be multiplied so you can always find them. I never want to be caught short like that again. We never caught those images, something I really regret.</div>
<div abp="134">
</div>
<div abp="134">
We did decide to celebrate Thomas's birthday with cake this year though! Itty bitty chocolate cupcakes make everything better and I'm pretty sure he would have loved them.</div>
<div abp="134">
</div>
<div abp="241" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a abp="242" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u7C8LWpcWVg/U7nylRqotxI/AAAAAAAAASA/aJkvGzvkqWs/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img abp="243" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u7C8LWpcWVg/U7nylRqotxI/AAAAAAAAASA/aJkvGzvkqWs/s1600/002.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-83006126763476758992014-05-26T16:52:00.000-07:002014-05-26T16:52:07.301-07:00Memorial Day, 2014<div abp="375">
This is the text of the speech I gave (or at least intended to give! I didn't deviate too much) this morning to the Memorial Day Ceremony hosted by American Legion Post 11 in Frederick, Maryland. </div>
<div abp="376" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="377" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="378" style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div abp="745" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a abp="746" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eHYEXHFONWc/U4PTVzQPh-I/AAAAAAAAARo/K0syUbSff44/s1600/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img abp="747" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eHYEXHFONWc/U4PTVzQPh-I/AAAAAAAAARo/K0syUbSff44/s1600/021.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div abp="379" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="380" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"></span> </div>
<div abp="383" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="384" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="385" style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div abp="386" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="387" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="388" style="font-family: Calibri;">Good
morning:<span abp="389" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you American Legion Post
11 for inviting me, a Gold Star Mother, to tell my story on this Memorial Day.<span abp="390" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want us to remember that this holiday was
started to honor the fallen soldiers of both sides of a bloody and terrible
war, the Civil War, and it continues to this day to honor soldiers who have
fallen while serving their country.<span abp="391" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
few days ago, I was having a conversation that was already awkward with a
contractor who had said some work on our house would take four days and so far
has taken two months and she closed by saying, “well Happy Memorial Day.”<span abp="392" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My patience was at an end and I snapped “I’m
the mother of a fallen soldier and I am not going to have a happy Memorial
Day.”<span abp="393" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She replied that Memorial Day is
for remembering all of our dead and that she had lost her mother three years
ago so she knew just what I meant. I’m sorry, she had no idea of what I meant
and I am afraid that many more of our countrymen may not know either.<span abp="394" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the time lengthens since the end of the
Korean conflict and World War II, and even Viet Nam, people forget how terrible
war is.<span abp="395" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most people do not know anyone
who has lost a loved one at war, and maybe my point of view has been skewed by
knowing so many, but to me it is just as important as<span abp="396" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ever that we remember those who have died
defending our freedom and our safety.<o:p abp="397"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="398">
</div>
<div abp="399" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="400" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="401" style="font-family: Calibri;">A peculiar
blessing of the 21<sup abp="402">st</sup> century is the connectedness encouraged by the
internet.<span abp="403" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Facebook newsfeed is full
of stories from the parents and spouses and friends of soldiers and marines and
sailors and airmen.<span abp="404" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many have posted
pithy reminders that Memorial Day is not all about going to the beach or having
a picnic.<span abp="405" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many more simply post pictures
of their loved ones, and sometimes pictures of their loved ones’ grave.<span abp="406" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do this myself, very regularly, because I
do not want anyone to forget that our freedom comes with a price.<span abp="407" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes I post pictures of particular
headstones at Arlington so the families of those service members will know
someone has visited.<span abp="408" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p abp="409"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="410">
</div>
<div abp="411" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="412" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="413" style="font-family: Calibri;">My son, Army
Specialist Thomas Doerflinger, enlisted in the Army in his high school
cafeteria in April of 2002.<span abp="414" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That
October, he left for Ft. Benning and Basic Training as an infantryman, and was
then assigned to Fort Lewis in Washington state.<span abp="415" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There he trained as a driver of Stryker
vehicles, a wheeled personnel carrier,<span abp="416" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>finished the first level of EMT training, took a rapid Arabic course and
learned how to take out tanks—all interesting skills if not useful in everyday
life—while his unit prepared for deployment to Iraq.<span abp="417" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In early October of 2004, I said good-bye to
Thomas, standing in the parking lot of the Taco Bell right outside the gates of
Ft. Lewis.<span abp="418" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As always, he did not want us
to go on post—too much paperwork he said--so he called a cab to take him back
to barracks.<span abp="419" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The last time I saw him, he
was facing forward, heading back to the mission he had chosen.<span abp="420" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Less than two weeks later, his Stryker
Brigade Combat Team deployed.<span abp="421" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not quite
four weeks after that, on November 11, 2004, he was killed in action in Mosul
Iraq.<span abp="422" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thomas had volunteered for that
last mission because the vehicle he was supposed to be driving was in for
repairs after being damaged during combat.<span abp="423" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He served that day as rear air guard, protecting his friends while they
secured a local police station from insurgents until he was hit by sniper
fire.<span abp="424" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the only casualty that day
and I suspect he would think that, having kept the others safe, he had a
successful day.<span abp="425" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His body arrived in
Dover three days later:<span abp="426" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was the week
of the Fallujah offensive and many other families of soldiers, marines, sailors
and airmen were also grieving.<span abp="427" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On
Thomas’s instructions, he is buried in the Catholic cemetery near our home in
Montgomery County.<span abp="428" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had told us that
the Army had him for five years or until something happened to him but eternity
belonged to him.<o:p abp="429"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="430">
</div>
<div abp="431" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="432" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="433" style="font-family: Calibri;">In the years
since, our family has been all too aware that we are not alone in our
grief.<span abp="434" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have made friends with the families
of other fallen servicemembers, we have been given the opportunity to speak
publicly, we have campaigned to change the name of a library in Rockville to
honor the memory of our loved ones.<span abp="435" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
personal decision to be of service led me, in 2007, to join the newly re-formed
Maryland Chapter of the American Gold Star Mothers.<o:p abp="436"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="437">
</div>
<div abp="438" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="439" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="440" style="font-family: Calibri;">Every family
that has lost a member in service to our country is a Gold Star Family.<span abp="441" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the First World War, the practice of
hanging a service banner in the home ofanyone serving in the military was
instituted:<span abp="442" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>for every family member
serving, a blue star was placed on the banner.<span abp="443" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If a family member died, the blue star was covered by a gold star.<span abp="444" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As time went on, the Gold Star Pin was
created by the Department of Defense, and now family members are given a lapel
pin with that star to signify their loss.<span abp="445" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I confess that I have lost three of these gold star pins so far so I now
wear a pin in the shape of the service banner—parents often wear the service
banner pin with a blue star for their children on active duty, but my pin has a
gold star in the center.<span abp="446" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think
anyone has ever asked me to explain it but then I’m not sure that everyone
understands its significance.<span abp="447" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p abp="448"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="449">
</div>
<div abp="450" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="451" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="452" style="font-family: Calibri;">World War I
and its aftermath changed other ways we memorialize our fallen.<span abp="453" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Following the American Civil War, as early
as 1866, many towns and villages in the United States had started decorating
the graves of both Union and Confederate soldiers with flowers and picnicking
in cemeteries in the spring.<span abp="454" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually
May 30<sup abp="455">th</sup> was chosen as the official date of Decoration Day, simply
because it was NOT the date of any significant battle: there were no winners or
losers that day.<span abp="456" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Decoration Day honored
Civil War soldiers exclusively until the end of the First World War, when the
custom changed to include the fallen of all American conflicts.<span abp="457" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p abp="458"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="459">
</div>
<div abp="460" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="461" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="462" style="font-family: Calibri;">World War I
ended on November 11, 1918. In the year following, most of the English speaking
world began observing November 11<sup abp="463">th</sup> as Armistice Day and then as a
Day of Remembrance.<span abp="464" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here in the United
States of course we already had the long-standing tradition memorializing our
fallen on May 30<sup abp="465">th</sup>, which we kept.<span abp="466" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But we recognized the importance of November 11<sup abp="467">th</sup>, the last
day of a war that had very high casualties, and for many years we observed
November 11<sup abp="468">th</sup> as Armistice Day.<span abp="469" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The history of November 11<sup abp="470">th</sup> is complicated but following
World War II and the Korean conflict, the name was officially changed to
Veterans Day and, with a brief pause in the early 70s, November 11<sup abp="471">th</sup>
has been a day to honor our living veterans ever since.<o:p abp="472"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="473">
</div>
<div abp="474" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="475" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="476" style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, my son
was killed in action on November 11<sup abp="477">th</sup>, 2004.<span abp="478" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Frankly, I think he might very well have
chosen this date if he’d been given a choice in the matter.<span abp="479" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it does make Veterans Day a little bit awkward
for us, his surviving family.<span abp="480" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though we
honor Thomas primarily on that day, we are well aware that Veterans Day is a
day to thank our veterans who returned home to us for their service.<span abp="481" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span abp="482" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
recent events have shown however, we need to be aware of our veterans and their
needs every day of the year, and this is in fact one of the purposes of the American
Gold Star Mothers as our history shows.<o:p abp="483"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="484">
</div>
<div abp="485" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="486" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="487" style="font-family: Calibri;">The Gold
Star Mothers organization is a legacy of World War I.<span abp="488" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>George Siebold, an American aviator, flew
under British command during that war.<span abp="489" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
went missing and eventually was presumed dead, though the circumstances of his
death were never clear and his body was never identified.<span abp="490" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless, by December of 1918, his
obituary was published and his widow was given his effects.<span abp="491" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His mother, Grace Darling Siebold, had
maintained hope for months, visiting the wounded in hospitals hoping to find
her son among them, but even when he was declared dead she continued those
visits to the wounded and began to extend “the hand of friendship to other
mothers whose sons had lost their lives in military service.”<span abp="492" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She organized those mothers into a group with
the purpose of comforting each other and continuing to care for hospitalized
veterans in government hospitals.<span abp="493" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
organization was named after the Gold Star on the service banner.<span abp="494" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>American Gold Star Mothers, Inc. was
incorporated in Washington DC in 1928.<span abp="495" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
quote the American Gold Star Mothers’ website, “We stand tall and proud by
honoring our children, assisting our veterans, supporting our nation, and
healing with each other.”<o:p abp="496"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="497">
</div>
<div abp="498" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="499" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="500" style="font-family: Calibri;">The current
Maryland chapter of American Gold Star Mothers was reorganized in 2007 by Carol
Roddy whose son David, a sailor, was killed in action during Operation Iraqi
Freedom in 2006. <span abp="501" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Carol knew<span abp="502" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>there had been such a thing as the Gold Star
Mothers and began looking for a chapter to join, only to be told by the
national organization that currently there was no active group in Maryland even
though a chapter had existed after the Viet Nam conflict.<span abp="503" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>National apparently suggested that Carol
might reorganize the chapter.<span abp="504" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So she set
to work, locating the other mothers with the help of Senator Mikulski’s
office<span abp="505" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(We actually have a hard time
finding each other as our privacy is protected.)<span abp="506" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps 15 of us came to that first meeting
but we have, sadly, acquired many members since then.<span abp="507" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over the last seven years we have sent packages
to service members overseas and brought personal care items to veterans living
in shelters.<span abp="508" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve made fleece blankets
for wounded warriors and collected kitchen items for families living in
Building 62 at Walter Reed.<span abp="509" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve
greeted Honor Flights of World War II veterans and we’ve filled in the gap when
a Wounded Warrior needed a ride to Arlington Cemetery to participate in Wreaths
Across America.<span abp="510" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several of our members
volunteer for the Red Cross and as individuals we give many, many hours to our
communities and to veterans.<span abp="511" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We support
one another in our grief and we celebrate the lives of our sons and
daughters.<span abp="512" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are as diverse a group of
women as you could ever hope to find, but we are friends, united in our grief,
but also determined to make the most of the time and energy we’ve been given to
do some good in our world.<span abp="513" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of us
have spoken at public events like this one, and on other occasions we are
simply honored guests.<span abp="514" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, our
founding president, Carol Roddy, passed away last year.<span abp="515" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are carrying on in her memory as well as
the memory of our children.<o:p abp="516"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="517">
</div>
<div abp="518" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span abp="519" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span abp="520" style="font-family: Calibri;">In all of
this of course we do not lose sight of what brought us here.<span abp="521" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our sons and daughters have died in the
service of their country.<span abp="522" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We want them
to be remembered and honored.<span abp="523" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately,
a great many of our fellow citizens do not know the history of the Gold Star or
understand the significance of a Gold Star banner hanging on the window or door
of a house.<span abp="524" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So a large part of our task
is simply the same as the goal of Memorial Day:<span abp="525" style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Remember them.<span abp="526" style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you.<o:p abp="527"></o:p></span></span></div>
<div abp="528">
</div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-30001934990067895532014-02-18T18:28:00.002-08:002014-02-18T18:28:18.540-08:00<div abp="1217">
<br /></div>
It's the dead of winter here in Maryland. We've had a lot of snow since December and even though the temperature actually went above 50 for a brief time today, there is still a lot of snow on the ground. It's melting, and refreezing, and tomorrow should be melting again. We are all just done with winter and are looking forward to spring. But here's the thing: I look out on these snowy streets and remember the week we drove to Ft. Benning to watch Thomas graduate from basic training. We had about two feet of snow early in that week in February, and for a while it looked like we might miss the graduation because no one had plowed out our street and we couldn't get out. Luckily, the day before we had to leave (or maybe that day? memory fades but I've got it written down somewhere) they finally came through. We drove through the evening into an ungodly hour of the morning in Atlanta (where the motel we stayed in looked like it might have hourly rates and regular visits from the police). We got to Ft. Benning late in the morning but in time for all of the ceremonial stuff and in time to spend a good amount of time with Thomas. We took him to a movie ("Daredevil"), ate pizza, let him sleep a little I think. I think he was disappointed that we could not stay longer because it turned out he had more free time than he'd thought he would, but some needed to get back to work and we had a Blue and Gold dinner for the Cub Scouts for Matthew to get back to. It was a lot warmer in Columbus Georgia than it had been up here (true today too I'm pretty sure!) and it was lovely to soak up some sun for a day or so. But man, today I miss him.<br />
<br />
<div abp="1502" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a abp="1503" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w-t2qwOLZEU/UwQWefnu2UI/AAAAAAAAARE/T_n6OmkcPIM/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img abp="1504" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-w-t2qwOLZEU/UwQWefnu2UI/AAAAAAAAARE/T_n6OmkcPIM/s1600/004.JPG" height="212" width="320" /></a> 2014</div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-63971925612781776492014-02-18T18:10:00.001-08:002014-02-18T18:10:05.227-08:00Ninth AnniversaryTomorrow is Veterans Day and the ninth anniversary of Thomas's death. We will go to Mass, visit the cemetery, maybe order Chinese for dinner in honor of Thomas's love of takeout.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow also marks my annual struggle with the conflict between observing Veterans Day and remembering Thomas. Any other country in the English-speaking world, there would be no problem: November 11th is Remembrance Day in the UK and Canada. Here in the US, we have had Memorial Day at the end of May since not long after the end of the Civil War. So tomorrow, I will feel somewhat out of step with the rest of the country, even though Veterans Day and Remembrance Day share their origin.<br />
<br />
<em>Obviously I wrote this on November 10th. There was a lot I kept trying to say but it didn't work out, and now I think this was plenty.</em>Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-45011328383822166382013-10-10T19:21:00.000-07:002013-10-10T19:23:16.800-07:00Active Gold Star Mothers!It's October already, and we are in the midst of the Great Government Shutdown. Holy Mackerel. What a mess. Among other things, death gratuities are not being paid to surviving families. Last weekend, five servicemembers were killed in two separate incidents and their families are getting nothing from DoD. What they will be getting is their $100,000 from the Fisher House Foundation which theoretically will be reimbursed by the government when all of this is straightened out. I hope they see their half a million dollars someday because Fisher House is a wonderful organization.<br />
<br />
So, as a Gold Star Mother, I've had an active fall so far. Our Maryland chapter had a crab feast on September 22 which raised over $4,000 for us, then the following Friday, eight of us were guests at Pax River Naval Air Station, in honor of Gold Star Mothers Sunday (there is not much activity there on the weekends). It was lovely. Our chapter meeting was a week after that, then this past Tuesday two of us were able to greet an Honor Flight of World War II veterans their guardians at Baltimore Washington International airport. They were so happy to be here, and they got the last day of good weather we had this week. Evidently, the National Park Service let them in to see the monuments.<br />
<br />
It <em>is</em> October and we approach the 9th anniversary of Thomas's death. It's on a Monday this year so I'll be taking the day off. Maybe we should go to the Leonardtown parade, since I don't think we are having one near here.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-90730737790230028422013-07-09T15:41:00.000-07:002013-07-09T15:42:16.841-07:0029th Birthday!We've just passed Thomas's 29th birthday. This year, no cake. We had been invited to a retirement party for my daughter's ex-father-in-law (and we are determined, no matter what our kids do, to stay friends) in the evening: Bob shares Thomas's birthday as well. Unfortunately, Richard and I started our day by going to a funeral for a former deacon in our church. I should probably have elected to stay home, I decided about halfway through. Nothing terrible happened, but I begin to feel that I should hire out as a professional mourner. Almost nine years on, and I still wonder when I cry if I'm crying for the recently deceased or for my son who will never come home.<br />
<br />
Between the funeral and the party, Richard and I went to the cemetery to bring flowers and remember Thomas. It was really, really hot and his grave is not sheltered at all from the sun so we did not stay long. <br />
<br />
I didn't want to just let the birthday go by so I posted a picture on Facebook (Thomas with Matthew and Maria) with the message that this would have been his 29th. I put it out there for everyone to read. There are a couple of pages I belong to for Gold Star families and those families always put something up about their loved one, but I don't know if they put anything on their newsfeed. On the other hand, many of my Facebook friends are Gold Star mothers or knew Thomas or knew me when Thomas was killed. It just seems useless and maybe unkind to be coy about it. But, I also do not want to make everyone else wallow in my grief. I expect that it will be clear enough when to stop posting these things.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-80471024118084418762013-06-05T15:37:00.000-07:002013-06-05T17:06:23.029-07:00I cannot believe that it's been nearly three months since I posted--maybe this is a sign of healing? We had a longer than average winter, what with snow late in March on the day I was supposed to go to Ft. Meade to take part in a dedication ceremony for a medical facility but something about the four inches of slippery wet snow, not to mention the fact that the ceremony was to be in a tent while the temperatures hovered around freezing . . . . anyway, I bailed as did almost everyone else. My sister was visiting and I couldn't see making her tromp around Ft. Meade in the snow, particularly as I was not that sure about where I was going.<br />
<br />
Which brings me to the one thing about Ft. Meade. The Maryland Gold Star Mothers meet there every other month. I find it hard (emotionally) to enter the fort but I do it and over the last couple of years I've gotten used to the routine. Except our most recent meeting, this last Saturday, happened to be a day when protesters were expected so they closed the main gate from Rte 175, the gate we normally use. I couldn't quite believe they would do that, especially since I had not heard anything about it, so I drove there anyway, only to find it blocked off. So I turned left instead of right in order to go back to the gate that really was open and was immediately stopped by the MPs. I ended up having to keep going east in order to find somewhere that would let me turn around and head west again . . . I was a wreck and I only saw two protesters anyway. Getting through the new gate meant having my car thoroughly inspected, including the mirror under the car technique and while a soldier with a very big gun looked on. I was nearly in tears by now but I did get through the process, they gave me good directions and in the end I was only 30 minutes late to the meeting. Everyone else was late too so we started 40 minutes late.<br />
<br />
Our secretary was away so I got to take minutes which I'm still turning into something readable. Sadly, our founding president, Carol Roddy, has just been put into hospice care and news of her condition hung over us as we started. I will say that many of the Gold Star parents seem to have suffered serious health problems at an earlier age than one might expect. I am sure that the shock of loss and the continued grief have a lot to do with this. I will be praying for Carol and her family in the days to come.<br />
<br />
And all of that without even mentioning Memorial Day! This year, more than usual, people noticed that veterans were being honored but the fallen were kind of forgotten. Now I have said often that I don't mind the picnics and sales: Memorial Day started as Decoration Day which involved picnicking among the tombstones you were taking care of--sort of having lunch with the dead I guess. And Thomas loved shopping for some reason so sales seem appropriate. But in all of that, you need to remember why we have this day. Our Memorial Day barbeque involved close friends and a toast to the fallen and especially to Thomas. We flew our flag. We went to Mass at Gate of Heaven and visited Thomas's grave. But mostly, we remembered. We finally got Thomas's picture drawn by Michael Reagan (3rd cousin to the president!) and it came back to us framed before Memorial Day. I was asked to write a blog entry for Serving Together, a program that's grown out of the Veterans Collaborative. I will try to link to it here.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mymentalhealthday.org/blog/">http://www.mymentalhealthday.org/blog/<br />
</a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.mymentalhealthday.org/blog/"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gfc8tlfpfg8/Ua_Ru_XSCdI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VWtCI4aXKIw/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gfc8tlfpfg8/Ua_Ru_XSCdI/AAAAAAAAAPE/VWtCI4aXKIw/s320/DSC_0030.JPG" width="260" /></a></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yi-M0K9c4Q/Ua_RhXlVfeI/AAAAAAAAAL0/bevM4Q4t0iM/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-74643864683522782422013-03-11T07:35:00.000-07:002013-03-11T07:35:14.647-07:00Catching Up, early 2013Well, it's been a while. People kept getting sick and then I got sick with something like flu but apparently not flu as the people in the emergency room tested me for that when I got Richard to drag me in one fine day in January. Nothing like IV fluids and antibiotics though to perk things right up--though January does not seem like a good month for me and germs. In February, we went to Rome for a week which always seems to take three times as much time as the actual trip--a week to prepare, a week away, a week to readjust to the right time zone and do the laundry. And here we are, already on the 11th of March!<br />
<br />
I had promised to write a bit about my wounded warrior and the trip to Wreaths Across America. In the interests of protecting his privacy, no names, but he had lost both legs below the knees, and a finger. He had a lot of family support, including his fiancee and brother who went with us. I got us into Arlington and to Section 60, where we unloaded his wheelchair (though he was able to walk some) and waited for the unloading of the wreaths. I pretty much left them to their own devices (which I think they preferred) and walked around visiting the graves of my friend's sons and one of my son's friend. I sought out the group marker from the funeral I had attended in September--still no permanent marker. I ended up engaging in a long conversation with Clarence Thomas, Supreme Court Justice who, along with his wife and the wife of Justice Samuel Alito, had come to the event. I talked some with other families. We were there for a couple of hours, placed the wreaths and then it was time to leave as our soldier had tired. He revived in the car as they began to make plans to go out to lunch and I ended up dropping them at the metro station so they could go out.<br />
<br />
And here is where I am glad it was me that did this. My husband's brother was in a wheelchair for 40 years as the result of a car accident that had left him unable to walk. Over the many years, I'd gotten used to the idea of hauling a wheelchair in my car, remembering to take off the footrests so it would fit better in the back and not being embarrassed when we had to struggle a bit to get it out of the car again. I could tell this family it was OK, we'd manage. It was a little difficult emotionally all around, but we did it and I think it was good for all of us.<br />
<br />
And today, another Deuce Four guy is being buried in Washington State. He was killed in a car accident in Montana but his family lives around Tacoma apparently. All I know about him comes from the memorial page from the funeral home, but he was born in 1984 like Thomas, and his middle name was Thomas, he even looked a bit like my Thomas. His funeral is at 11 PDT and I'm finding that knowing this brings up a lot of emotion. So, every time I wonder if I'm getting hardened to his loss, I find out that the grief is still there, lurking around under the surface just waiting for an opening.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-82248866232742614592012-12-22T14:11:00.000-08:002012-12-22T14:11:29.183-08:00Christmas, and other, GiftsSo here we are on December 22, and my last post seems a little naive right now. Two days after I wrote that, 20 children and seven adults were murdered in Newtown, Connecticut, and the murderer himself committed suicide. Hard to feel optimistic in the face of that much death. But, it was a reminder to everyone else that tomorrow is not guaranteed, a lesson we Gold Star families have learned all too well. It is true that we (for the most part) knew that our loved ones were at risk, unlike the families in Newtown. It is also true that we had to believe they would be coming home or we would have lost our minds worrying about them. So, with the children and with Thomas in mind, I will tell a short story of a Christmas gift.<br />
<br />
When we moved to this house in August of 1993, my kids felt terribly uprooted. Even though the distance was not far, our new suburban home was in a very different kind of neighborhood, we had changed counties and school districts, and everyone had to make new friends. Nine years old, Thomas took it particularly hard, though he did seem to make new friends pretty readily. Still, I knew he was not very happy and so when he asked for a jeans jacket for Christmas, and not much else, I made it my mission to get him one.<br />
<br />
There was no internet shopping 19 years ago (or at least none that ordinary people could access) and this jacket proved to be elusive. I don't remember the details of my search now, just a general feeling of anxiety and desperation as time went on and I failed to find one. Finally, finally, I tracked one down in the right size at Kids R Us. Unfortunately it was about $45, which seemed like a lot to me, house-poor as we'd become. Still, it was pretty much all he'd asked for and (I consoled myself) it was sturdy enough to be worn by his little sister and brother too. I stood in line to pay and must have been chatting with the lady in line behind me who I remember looked appalled at the price of the jacket. I bought it anyway of course and he loved it and wore it.<br />
<br />
Truthfully, I remember few of the other Christmas gifts we gave him over the years. I knew that this one was important and that we had only one chance to do it right. We did not get many opportunities to give him the things he wanted when you think about it, and now when I reflect on that lady looking so disapproving I am grateful that I listened to my heart and spent the money, even if it stretched our budget painfully. We don't know what will happen tomorrow so let's give a little happiness today. Not that happiness always comes in the shape of things, but sometimes in what the things stand for.<br />
<br />
As Thomas got older, he became a bit of a clotheshorse. After he died, we discovered that he had two leather jackets. One we gave to a friend as a memento, and one his little brother wears from time to time.<br />
<br />
*******<br />
I will write about my trip to Arlington with our wounded warrior another day.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-26682408723252309652012-12-12T15:54:00.002-08:002012-12-12T15:55:25.132-08:00December!It is December and guess what? I really do feel better now that we've finished with November! I would not say this is a steady state: I have moments that are pretty low but then there are moments that are better than just OK too. November just seemed like an endless slog. December is a notable improvement.<br />
<br />
On Saturday, I will be driving a wounded warrior to Arlington as part of Wreaths Across America. He and his fiancée and his brother want to go but didn't have a ride and by one of those mysterious pathways, they got to the Gold Star Mothers in Maryland. I am relatively close by, it is something I can do. It might be good to remove some of the junk from my car though.<br />
<br />
I miss Thomas.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-5029733548289144162012-11-05T06:30:00.000-08:002012-11-05T06:30:30.754-08:00Bring on the Carols--I'm done with NovemberI was in Kohl's department store the day after Halloween, looking for a new purse. I'm always looking for a new purse, one that is not too heavy but not so small that I can't fit everything I need in there (wallet, cardholder, pens, Kleenex, two tape measures, phone--you get the picture). After finding a suitable candidate, I walked around the store. Kohl's merchandising is always very seasonally-oriented and there was some Thanksgiving stuff out, towels, serving dishes and so on. I'm just absent-mindedly walking along when I realize two things: they have already put out Christmas decorations and there is a popular Christmas song playing overhead. And for one moment I thought "It's Advent already, we've passed the hard days of November 11th and Thanksgiving and we are moving on in the calendar." Until that moment, I had not realized, or let myself realize, how hard this approach to Thomas's date and the dates of subsequent events really is. I do not play the "what if" game: I've been relentless in facing the reality of what happened because I know that returning to earth after such a fantasy would end badly, but for just that moment, my mind stepped outside of time without my permission and gave me that tiny break.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29483571.post-36809357656292631532012-10-27T19:36:00.000-07:002012-10-27T19:36:12.558-07:00Pumpkin Patch, 2012We are approaching the date. It will have been eight years and yet I am still surprised every year by how hard it is. I finally gave up and told one of my very young co-workers at the fabric store what had happened and why I was just a little more fragile and unwilling to deal with difficult people than usual. He took it pretty well. It probably did not escape his notice that he is the age now that Thomas was when he was killed.<br />
<br />
I have kind of gotten over the need to tell total strangers about Thomas all of the time. Today however, I went to a pumpkin patch and found myself talking about being a Gold Star Mother to a husband and wife who were just trying to raise their alpacas and sell a little merchandise. I tried on a sweater (which I did buy) and the friend who was with me pointed out that I could wear it when doing my public speaking gigs. The alpaca farmer asked what I speak about and, after a longish pause in which I looked at Pat and she looked at me, I told him it was difficult but he claimed to be willing to hear what I had to say. So I told him I am a Gold Star Mother, that my son was killed in Iraq in 2004 on Veterans Day. I got a little teary-eyed once or twice but this gentleman and his wife were willing listeners, did not look embarrassed, and expressed both sympathy and gratitude. All I can say is, whatever they were expecting to hear, this wasn't it but they were truly gracious.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LdUQQfqdsSk/UIyZ0CqRkmI/AAAAAAAAAKs/I1FSHzi8kk4/s1600/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LdUQQfqdsSk/UIyZ0CqRkmI/AAAAAAAAAKs/I1FSHzi8kk4/s320/024.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
We had a wonderful time at the pumpkin patch with my daughter and grand-daughter--Thomas's niece. I think I'll put her picture here. She is the future, I told my alpaca farmer. And by the way, alpacas are really cute but not cooperative when it comes to photographs. This is Leah with gourds we found still attached to the vines among the pumpkins.Lee Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06752558472354121200noreply@blogger.com0