Watching Them Grow...

Boys With Daddy

This summer the boys and I took a road trip up to Virginia and D.C. to spend some time with Nana, go see Daddy and meet some friends and other family as well.  Our plan included sight seeing that started with Arlington and ended in DC seeing Memorials and Monuments. Our first day....was alone with Daddy.


As we approached Section 60 my heart dropped, there in the grass where there had been no rows, not headstones, there were now seven more. Seven more rows filled with the most amazing Heroes but seven more rows that also represented numerous families that were now mourning their Hero as we had and still do. There were so many rows on the  ground where I use to stand hoping and praying that no more rows would be added, hoping that the three in front of Chris' were the last but knowing in my heart where I was standing would be the last resting place to more of our Nations Heroes.  I got out of the car and walked slowly towards them, counting them as I did, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven; seven new rows and these rows are not short rows they extend the length of Section 60 and to estimate the number of Heroes that had been added in my absence, would be over two hundred. I stood there wondering what the families were going through, knowing all too well exactly what it was.  Knowing too this was not the only place our Heroes were laid to rest. Wondering how many widows were added to my ranks, how many kids just like mine were now missing their Daddies.  It broke my heart as all I wanted to do was reach out to them all, show them that life can be what we now consider a "new normal". But it was there and it was a light they could see.  I shook my head as I wiped tears that had formed as I looked at all those perfect, white pristine headstones.


The boys tugged on my shirt encouraging me to keep walking towards Chris' grave, and I was snapped back to reality.  As I walked to Chris' grave it seemed so far back where it had been in for front of Section 60 the last time I was there.  As the boys reached Chris' grave they immediately gave him a hug and said "Hi Dad".  I was almost snapped away from my thoughts of all the new graves and Heroes that now shared this honorable place with Chris as I realized a few things that really made me stand there in disbelief and great sadness.


My boys were growing up beside their Daddy not with him, and I was measuring how much they had grown and how long it had been based on how much taller they were than his headstone.  As I stood there watching them place red, white and blue stones showing their love and honor to Chris I just couldn't believe how much taller and older they were now. I couldn't help but think of two years ago when Owen was just a little taller and Oliver's head was peaking over the top. Now I see them towering over their Daddy. The only thought that went through my mind at that point was, "how can this be their reality?" How was this my reality, but as I stood there I realized they were growing and changing and the one constant that would never change would be that grave stone, with his name on it and as I looked around beyond Section 60 I realized that there must be thousands of Moms that thought just that same way. My eyes filled with tears and I just let them run down my face in the hot sun and as they fell to the ground they landed on the ground that covered their Daddy.  


This is how I was going to gage their growth?  This is how I get to watch them grow? I knew some day they would not only tower over their Father's grave but they would one day reach the age and exceed the age that Chris was when he died. One day we would be standing there and I would be watching my six foot something boys, now men introduce their Father, their Hero to their new bride or new child. My heart sank and the pain I felt reached all the way down to my toes and I lost my footing. I had to sit down and take a breath. My tears flowed again, running down my face and dropping on the grass below, soaking into where he laid so peacefully.  How was this my reality? This can't be the only way they would ever know him, as a grave marker.  I wish nothing more than for them to be filled with love and stories and memories that were created by the time they spent with their Daddy. I wish nothing more than for them to feel his warm strong hands, his deep caring voice and look into those crystal blue loving eyes. They will never be able to experience that, they will never know him as I did or anyone that was lucky enough to have known him. I sat there as they so proudly talked to him, placed the colorful patriotic stones and did not notice my near breakdown. I cried for a brief time, and then looked up to see them hugging his grave again, knowing they were two of the most proud little men I had ever known.  I smiled ... through my tears and was hoping Chris was smiling too.


I got to my knees making sure I was stable to stand and brushed myself off. I pulled out my camera and started to take pictures of those two proud little men who just couldn't show enough love to their Hero and Daddy.  As I snapped picture after picture I saw the love they had for him, the pride, the joy of just being there and I realized my pain was just mine at that moment as this is all they knew and were so happy to just have that time with him. I finished taking the pictures and we walked back to the car.


As we drove away from Section 60 and Chris I looked in the rearview mirror and saw his grave get smaller and smaller as the boys' smiles got bigger and bigger. They were happy to have seen Daddy.  I had the images of them and his headstone in my head the whole way home and it dawned on me, through myself, our family, friends, and Chris' soldiers my boys would know their father, maybe better than most sons known their Fathers. It now was clear to me that they already knew so much about him. They knew how much he loved them, how much he missed them, what a wonderful Father he was, the personality traits they carried, the genes that were undeniably Chris', how his soldiers looked up to him and honored him everyday. They already know how much I loved him and miss him. They know amazing stories about him through their Granddad.  They have seen the pictures, the dedications, the honor, the pride, the love, and that is so much more than most see in a lifetime. And this was just the beginning of what they would know and learn about him. I alone had stories to share that will come in time. I alone had a lifetime of love to share with them. And as we pulled into Nana's drive I noticed them sitting quietly and I asked what the matter was. They both looked up with eyes filled with tears and said together, "We miss our Daddy, Mom". And as heartbreaking as that was, it was a comfort because I knew they knew enough about him to miss him.


I scooped them up in my arms and we shared a good cry together. We walked in Nana's house to smells of a yummy dinner and they ran up the stairs to tell her all about their visit. I smiled because I knew, one more memory had been made even though Chris was not here physically, he was here in our minds, hearts, memories and that was enough because that was the best it could be.

The Day I was Notified...

I absolutely hate talking about my notification.  I used to not mind because it is such a huge part of my journey, but as time passes, it has become such a very personal and private moment for me and NOT a moment I choose to dwell on!  It is just so overwhelming to go back to that day.  To that moment...

When Bryant got to Iraq, one of the first things he did was make sure he had an internet connection.  In 2006, the internet in Iraq was NOT the best, but Bryant made a shopping list for me of the hardware he needed and had me send the stuff to him so that he and his guys would have the best connection they could get.  At the time I was mildly irritated at the money being spent, but now I know why he did it.  He needed that connection to me.  Because of the extra effort he made, I was able to talk with Bryant nearly every morning and every evening.  It was rare when I did not get to talk with him and on the days I did not hear from him (usually due to communication black-outs) I stayed irritable and worried until I heard the familiar computer beep letting me know someone was IM'ing me.

On the evening of April 27, I got the familiar beep.  Bryant was just getting out of bed.  He usually "beeped" me first thing because he knew how much I liked to watch him get ready for work.  I guess it was my way of holding onto a small domestic ritual since I used to lay in bed and watch him when he was home.  As he sipped his coffee, we talked for a couple hours and then he had to leave for work.  I went to bed about an hour later.  During the night I woke up freezing cold to the point I was shivering.  I looked to see what time it was (1:10 AM), pulled the covers tighter around me and thought to myself, "I should have worn my flannel pajamas to bed."  After a few moments I was back asleep.

The next day was a beautiful warm day.  I did not get an IM from Bryant and for the first time, I did not worry about it.  I checked to see if he was online, but went on with my day.  I cleaned my house and was getting ready to sit down and watch NASCAR qualifying from Talladega when the doorbell rang.  My first thought was the mailman was delivering books I had ordered a week or so before.  I opened the door to find a man and a woman, both wearing the dress green uniform... and I knew.  Bryant was not going to be able to keep his promise to me.  He was never going to come home.     

So much about that day is a blur to me now.  I do not remember hearing the words being read by SSG Baker...telling me my husband was dead.  I remember saying a few choice cuss words only to then feel bad for cussing in front of the chaplain.  I remember her putting her arm around me and leading me to the couch.  She said a lot to me but the only thing I remember was when she said, "It is all a bad dream."  I thought, "This is no fucking dream.  This is as real as it is ever going to get because this is not something I will ever wake up from."  To this day I hate that Carrie Underwood song...  

SSG Baker asked if I wanted him to call someone and I do not know why but I asked for my FRG leader, Nadine.  In the few months we had known each other we really only had one conversation. I was a point-of-contact (POC) for some of the families in the unit. Nadine and I sat together during a POC training and afterward we had lunch.  Outside of that one day and the few FRG meetings we had, I did not really know her.  But it was her I asked him to call.  She came as soon as she could.  I don't know what I said to her during those long hours of sitting there in my living room.  She sat with me as I called my mom and listened as I called my brother-in-law because I wasn't sure if I should call my sister at work or wait until she got off.  He was sitting at the school waiting to pick my nieces up and had to break the news to them on the way home.  I think I finally did call my sister.  Bryant's family had not been notified and I fretted over when they would be told.  

Eventually my CAO came over.  Bryant's commander requested MSG Eddie Campos to be my CAO because he was from our unit and he knew Eddie would do everything to see that I was taken care of.  Eddie and Bryant had been friends.  I could see it was not easy for him to be there and in a way that was a comfort to me.  Someone else was hurting for Bryant too.  I listened as Eddie explained each paper before I signed it.  He set a gratuity check down on the couch next to me explaining that it was meant to help me get through the next few months while everything got settled. It lay there forgotten until the next morning when I caught my dog chewing on it.  I do remember Eddie and Nadine telling me stories about Bryant at work and I remember laughing.  Bryant could always make me laugh.

The only other visitor I had that day was my neighbor came over wanting to know if everything was okay.  She was an army wife also and had seen the cars.  Nadine met her at the door and would not allow her in simply saying I did not want to see anyone.  Protecting me became Nadine's mission and God bless her, she did her job very well.  I was not aware of it but several people called her wanting information.  She fielded all those calls and over the next couple weeks made sure I was not overwhelmed by everyone.  She was my liaison to the outside world. She coordinated who and when people came to see me and made sure I ate.  To be honest, to get details about that day, it would be best to ask her... I just don't remember.  Maybe I don't want to.

I did eventually asked if anyone was killed with Bryant.  The only answer I could get was "I don't know."  I later found out Bryant's gunner, SGT Jose Gomez had been killed also.  A week or so before they died, Jose came to Bryant's room while we were chatting on the computer.  He saw me on the screen and said hello and thanks for a care package I had sent to him.  We chatted a moment and then he and Bryant started picking on each other.  I remember laughing as I watched them.  Jose was such a good kid...

As it got late, I told Nadine she did not have to stay.  She said she wanted to make sure I got something to eat since I had not eaten all day.  I put on my flip-flops and walked out the door.  She drove to Sonic and I realized I had not brought my purse.  I had no money and no keys to get back into the house.  She bought my dinner and we sat in my driveway eating while waiting for a locksmith.  After I got into the house, Nadine went home.  It was around 11pm.  I sat down at my computer and wrote an email telling our friends what had happened.  It took so long to write because it had to be perfect.  Perfect for Bryant.  At one point I went into the bedroom and opened a drawer.  I pulled out my blue flannel pajamas and remembered what happened the night before.  It was way too hot for flannels so I put them back and put on something else.  Nearly 2 weeks later, as I made arrangements for Bryant's funeral, Eddie would tell me what time Bryant died.  Out of habit I converted that to central standard time and I finally realized the significance of waking up freezing cold at the end of April in Texas.  It was the moment Bryant was killed.  I had felt him die.

I eventually fell asleep around 5 AM.  In the hour or so I was able to sleep Bryant came to me. He was there in our bedroom sitting in a recliner I bought for him after his first tour in Korea.  I was sitting on his lap.  His arms were around me and he was holding me tight as he explained how he had to go back to work.  He reached behind him, pulled the curtain back.  I did not see our backyard.  I saw soldiers working in the sand under a hot sun. He kept telling me they need me there.  He kissed me goodbye and I woke up to a world without him and a life I did not want.  

It has been 4 years, 3 months, 1 week and 6 days since the day I was notified that my husband was killed.