
I've had a rough week. Poor me. I've been extremely busy and the kids have been more unruly than they usually are. I can't run. Poor me. I can't sleep well at night. Poor me. I am probably the most selfish person I know.
Here I sit, complaining about the little things that seem to crop up during the day and irritate me. Yet, the mother of this young man will never see her son again. Not on earth anyway.
How dare I complain that my 5 year old is driving me nuts or that the baby won't stop swinging from the kitchen lamp. At least they are here with me.
Monday started as it usually does. I try to scramble to get ready for the day, printing out school schedules, get chores started, and see my first TWLC student for the day. After the morning got going, the phone rang and a homeschooling friend asked if I was going to make the memorial for our hometown hero. How could I possibly say no? I mean, this is truly a life lesson that my children could learn that they would never forget.
We packed into the Suburban and headed for the area near the church. We ran into our friends there and they even shared some flags for us to wave. We only had one small one. I should have brough the full size one from our porch. There were so many flags flying, it was quite amazing.
As the hearse passed me, I began to cry uncontrollably. I tried not to let my children see. They make fun of me when I cry. Of course I cry at Lassie shows, so I'm an easy sell. But this was different. This was an ache so deep that I can't describe it. A young man, barely a man, just out of boyhood really, the same age as my oldest daughter, the same age as my friend's son, has died. This was a mother's son. This was another brother's brother. This was OUR son. He was OUR son.
I've never met Cory. I'm sorry for that. But I am so very proud of him. I am so very sad for the loss his family has to come to terms with. Somehow, none of this makes any sense anymore.
Sometimes Pride is a good thing. Pride in young men, big heros like Cory is a great thing.
For more details on the event, you can read about it here.
2 comments:
It's hard not to think of every boy you know near that age...of every child you love who will one day be that age. It is only one story of so many in this war. My heart cries for all of them, as well as all of the ones that are yet to happen. How scared every parent must be who has a child over there. I'm glad you made it there with your children. You're right..it was a good life lesson. Seeing you cry for that young man was also a good life lesson for them.
Oh my, Karen--
and it is ok to be sad. God has a great plan, that is the only reconciation I can conjure.
Hugs from here.... give yourself a lot of room and time to just be.
with love,
Cindy
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