Memorial Day

It’s coming.  It’s another landmark day to remember my son and my husband.  I feel as if every time I turn around, there’s a date that signifies something special for one or both of them.  But, honestly, isn’t that wonderful?  It means they participated in this life they were given.  They were born, made mothers of some fortunate women, they graduated, and they went into the military and valiantly served their country.  They sacrificed much for that service, as did those who loved them.  Every New Year’s Eve I hate the idea of going into another year where they won’t be present.  Then comes a birthday, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Father’s Day, another birthday, 4^th of July, my birthday, the Marine Corps Birthday, Veteran’s Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  There is no break when they are not missed.  None.  Sometimes a random day can be as painful as a holiday.  It just depends what comes our way.

I’ve been running the gamut of emotions over the past year, and if you’ve followed me, more specifically in 2016.  It’s as if the gauze that was protecting me was removed and I began realizing, stressing, agonizing, mourning and raging.  And guess what?  None of that has done a damn bit of good.  It has only caused me to be irritable, jealous, angry and exhausted.  I sound like a fun person to be with, don’t I?  And I know that my husband and my son would both be disappointed in me, not to mention my son who remains here with me, and all of the others in my life I love so dearly.  I suppose it’s somewhat healthy to purge yourself of all of those nasty emotions that grief introduces, but I don’t want to live in a state of perpetual grief.  I will always mourn and desperately miss those who have gone before me, but what possible good can I be to myself or anyone else if I give in to this monster.  If jealousy is a green-eyed monster, grief is a black and purple and grey 6 eyed monster with long teeth, slimy skin and claws that grasp and hold.  What I think I need to have to fight this demon is light.  I need to fling open the curtains and welcome each day, for it is a gift.  I need to be open to all the new experiences this new life can bring.  I need to smile and choose joy.  I need to pray and not complain.  I began just this weekend wearing an “x” on the top of my left hand, between my thumb and forefinger as a reminder that complaining is not allowed.

It hasn’t taken me much to decide that it’s time for spring cleaning in preparation for Memorial Day.  Living in the darkness with that creepy 6 eyed creature is not much fun.  He guards the door and keeps me from the things that will make me feel better.  Things like walks outside, yoga class, church, even visits with friends and family.  

Of course I’m lonely, and of course I will continue to cry at times for those I miss so desperately.  But I’ve thought so much about them and have decided to use them for my inspiration, and probably Adam more specifically, because I was around to see how he challenged himself and became who he wanted to be and needed to be, even when he wasn’t sure if it was possible.  The Marine Corps Boot Camp is the hardest boot camp you can experience.  You constantly have challenges and mind games thrown at you which are the hardest experiences physically and mentally experienced to date.  But they are very specifically designed to give you the courage and tenacity, the backbone and loyalty you need to survive.  And for my Hollywood Marines, the Reaper was the final challenge.  Well, the Reaper has challenged me in the last year and a half.  It’s time I climb that bad boy, reach a summit, stake my flag and claim my medal.  And as arrogant as it may sound, I need to be proud of that accomplishment, for sadly, I belong to a club no one should belong to and could also be called the few and the proud.  Parents who bury children are never recruiting members.  Just hearing of a parent having to bury a child now is crushing to me, for I wish this on no one, ever, anywhere.  But if I can conquer this pain and find my way to live in the light and make the rest of my time on this good earth count, I will have won and I hope they will smile down on me for my perseverance.  I have begun my own “Crucible”.  I am at the foot of the Reaper.  And I will ascend, and I will triumph.  I’ve come too far, learned too much, and would disappoint too many to fail.  Failure is not an option.  “Strength is releasing pain from the body and the mind”.  I may not have managed it all by Memorial Day, but when I enter that hallowed ground at the national cemetery for a service to remember, not just my husband and son, but all of those men and women who had the courage and fortitude to offer themselves for the betterment of others, I want to be able to hold my head high and be living in the light for them, and for me.  That would be a Memorial Day I could celebrate and not be mournful about.  They did not give of themselves for us to be sad and broken.  Memorial Day should be a day the Phoenix rises, along with a beautiful sun, shining on our hearts filled with hope.