Saying Goodbye to an American Hero

I slowly walked into the small school auditorium with my husband and friend. Holding the piece of paper and little American Flag they gave us when we entered. The sounds I hear are hushed whispers, the sound of paper and moving feet. I see the front is brilliantly lit with candles and what feels to be spot lights.

Then, as I look around as if to find the right place to be, we just stop and I say this is as good a place as any. We move sideways to get seated. I again look to the front and find before us the standing rifle and helmet of the fallen Soldier, with boots placed at the bottom. Beside it was a large photo of the Soldier, taken at sunset in Afghanistan. From somewhere I hear music start to play. My eyes have filled with tears and though my watery prism, there seems to be a halo around the entire front of the room.

I turn my head so as to see people moving in still. I spot a known person from our unit, I stand and walk over to her. I then return to tell my Husband and fiend we will move to sit with the group. I notice on that side of the stage more candles and a white racing helmet and white shoes with the photo of a car. I hold control on myself.

I did not know this Soldier, though he was a friend of my son. They were in the same small unit. I look again at his large photo, and see the promise of life in his young face. My eyes fill again and I take control again. The Family arrives and is helped to their spots up front. The Flags are brought in and the Military walk in, in solemn procession.

There are words being spoken of this young Soldier. How he wore a smile like his uniform, all the time. How he would light up any room he was in with his presents. Yes, a young man bigger then life, and a zest for it. He honored his Country with his very being.

Tears silently slid down my face as they did my Husband and friends. The group Leader who sat in front of us was racked with sobs. They do a wonderful little slide show of his life, with music that rips at your soul. I maintain control though there are tears falling from my eyes. My Husband reaches to hold my hand, and I feel strength in his touch. As I look and see his eyes red rimed.

The Father speaks of the joy of his son, the pride he always felt for him. Though he would have chosen to keep his son around longer, Joe knew what he was doing. He told his Father "I know I'm making a difference and I'm right where I should be." My control slips just a bit. I gulp air for fear I may lose it. I feel a bit of relief as I feel myself in control again.

Then His Sisters speak though coking tears of their love for their brother. His Mother is helped to the stage and she slowly walks to the mike to speak of her son. I find spots before my eyes as I realize I'm holding my breath. I force myself to breath deeply, but lack that feeling of relief this time.

She speaks of her son, and I hold on as the women next to me breaks down into hard sobs. I hold fast trying to keep it together, as I hear her say, "For all that has been said, for all he did, I know he was my son and for that alone I loved him. Thank you." With those words my resolve crumbled into the horror of the moment. I say the horror of the moment, for it could be me standing there. This could very well have been my son.

I knew that from the moment I arrived here, and had known it since I had received word of the death within our Unit. I choose to try to remove myself by making this something I was doing as the leader of a group. In the end, I was there as a Mother of Soldiers, Marines, Sailors and Airmen.

I sobbed out of control and repeatedly tried to get my control back, as my Husband rubbed my back, and my friend reached across to hold my hand. It took some moments for me to get it together. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose softly. The Soldiers stepped to the front to retire the "Colors"; we all stood as if pulled by some imaginary string.

My eyes were dry, my back as straight as a board for I knew my son would want me to be strong. The red in our flag seemed more brilliant and the Flag was hued in a halo of rainbow color. For a moment I felt the solemn Pride of our Nation, and the heavy heart of all Mother's. Mother's who have given a full measure down though our History.

So that on this day I stand here in this place to pay Honor to a Soldier, to His Family, and to my Nation which choose to fight to keep what we have. To bear witness to the cost paid for freedoms enjoyed by all who live here. To forever remember what, cost is paid for our way of life A cost so HIGH that NO one can ever put an amount to it. NO one and I do mean NO one can ever tell you what the cost of a war is in $ amounts. For each Family who has paid that cost, there is no amount of money in the world worth the life of their son, Husband, brother, sister or Mother.

So at the end there I stood, back ramrod straight with red rimed eyes, a clenched resolve to make my son's proud. I stood as a Mother, for all Mothers. I have since that day attended six more fallen Soldiers services. Each one is hard, and it should be. For none of us should ever forget the Men & Women who have given so much.

For our Nation is still the Greatest and the Strongest, lets keep it that way. In my heart I carry the memories of each with me, and know that there are brighter days for the world because of them.