I've always been a person of faith, as in someone that believed there was a God, or a higher being at work in our lives, but until I became really active in troop support work and with supporting the families of our fallen did this really become apparent in my life.
This past November, I received an email notification about the death of a soldier in my area. It told his story, his parents addresses, showed his picture, and something about him just spoke to me. My husband was able to run up and salute his procession leaving the airport and head to the funeral home. My kids and I watched my husband from the car as traffic didn't allow us to get out in time and join, but I was so proud of him for being able to stand there for his fallen brother-even though he had never met him.
My husband and I decided to attend his wake and were given the name of the soldier's uncle from an organization I volunteer for locally. When we arrived, the Patriot Guard was out with their flags, standing at each door, and doing a wonderful job to support this hero. . Inside the funeral home was another story. There were family, some friends, two separate casualty officers as the parents had a difficult time being near each other; but there was no line for this soldier. I will never forget that. Maybe it was the time of day, but I hope no funeral home is ever that empty for a 21 year old soldier that gives their life in service to this country. I had the privilege of meeting his uncle, hugging him and expressing our condolences, passing on a card for the local organization and letting him know to pass on to the rest of the family that they are not alone, any help they may need is a phone call or arms reach away. they had a video playing of his landing in Dover and the honors displayed for him there. There would be no open viewing for this soldier; it was closed with a flag draped over it. As my husband and I walked away, there was a boy of about sixteen standing there wearing an Army tie. I looked at him and he said to me, "He was my brother," and I immediately hugged him, thanked him, told him I was so very sorry, and started crying. There were pictures of the soldier enjoying life, his friends, the Army; there are no words for the feelings I had that day.
Exactly a month after his wake and funeral (he was buried on Veteran's day); I participated in Wreaths across America here in Illinois. One of the women I know that runs one of the local organizations here also organizes WAA each year. It is beyond anything I ever imagined it would be. It is an amazing experience in itself, and I can write more about that later. But this day, I was thinking of my fallen soldier, because that's how I think of him now. I knew he was buried in this cemetery but had not been able to look up where before going out there. I was saddened to think he wouldn't have a wreath. I was the head of one section and needless to say, this fallen soldier was on my mind all day. I even mentioned him to a few people while we were placing wreaths, saying I knew a soldier that had been buried just a month ago. Returning home that day, a Saturday, our mail came and that day, that VERY day, our mail had a card from this soldier's family thanking us for coming to this wake, for honoring their soldier. On the day of Wreaths across America when I had been thinking about him all day, this is when I heard from his family, and in it they had his mass card.
An hour or so later when pondering the coincidence of it all, I checked the cemetery website and they had a grave locator online. If only I had thought to check that before going to the cemetary but in the end, that's how life works out. So, I check for my fallen soldier, and will you believe that the section I was the head of, the section of a thousand graves, out of 10,000 was the section my soldier was buried in? I was heading section Seven and there he was. I could picture the spont he had to have been in. I had spoken of him while walking through the snow and placing wreaths. And there he was.
When I sad down and really thought about it, I don't think any of it is a coincidence. I think it falls under the saying "God works in mysterious ways". As I type this now, I'm still struck by the amount of ways he worked. When we arrived at the WAA event, we signed up and were given Section Seven, it wasn't a pre-determined thing. When we got to the section-the leader hadn't shown up, and I became the head because no one else was a part of the organization, so I took over by default. It just meant I spent a lot of time there, thinking, walking, honoring...
I have since been able to keep in contact every now and again with my fallen soldier's uncle. They miss him dearly but are trying to cope and help other Gold Star families cope together. I wouldn't have known about this soldier without email notifications from a very special group of people. The work we do is important. These soldiers are more important than words can say. God Bless all of you for what you do.
This past November, I received an email notification about the death of a soldier in my area. It told his story, his parents addresses, showed his picture, and something about him just spoke to me. My husband was able to run up and salute his procession leaving the airport and head to the funeral home. My kids and I watched my husband from the car as traffic didn't allow us to get out in time and join, but I was so proud of him for being able to stand there for his fallen brother-even though he had never met him.
My husband and I decided to attend his wake and were given the name of the soldier's uncle from an organization I volunteer for locally. When we arrived, the Patriot Guard was out with their flags, standing at each door, and doing a wonderful job to support this hero. . Inside the funeral home was another story. There were family, some friends, two separate casualty officers as the parents had a difficult time being near each other; but there was no line for this soldier. I will never forget that. Maybe it was the time of day, but I hope no funeral home is ever that empty for a 21 year old soldier that gives their life in service to this country. I had the privilege of meeting his uncle, hugging him and expressing our condolences, passing on a card for the local organization and letting him know to pass on to the rest of the family that they are not alone, any help they may need is a phone call or arms reach away. they had a video playing of his landing in Dover and the honors displayed for him there. There would be no open viewing for this soldier; it was closed with a flag draped over it. As my husband and I walked away, there was a boy of about sixteen standing there wearing an Army tie. I looked at him and he said to me, "He was my brother," and I immediately hugged him, thanked him, told him I was so very sorry, and started crying. There were pictures of the soldier enjoying life, his friends, the Army; there are no words for the feelings I had that day.
Exactly a month after his wake and funeral (he was buried on Veteran's day); I participated in Wreaths across America here in Illinois. One of the women I know that runs one of the local organizations here also organizes WAA each year. It is beyond anything I ever imagined it would be. It is an amazing experience in itself, and I can write more about that later. But this day, I was thinking of my fallen soldier, because that's how I think of him now. I knew he was buried in this cemetery but had not been able to look up where before going out there. I was saddened to think he wouldn't have a wreath. I was the head of one section and needless to say, this fallen soldier was on my mind all day. I even mentioned him to a few people while we were placing wreaths, saying I knew a soldier that had been buried just a month ago. Returning home that day, a Saturday, our mail came and that day, that VERY day, our mail had a card from this soldier's family thanking us for coming to this wake, for honoring their soldier. On the day of Wreaths across America when I had been thinking about him all day, this is when I heard from his family, and in it they had his mass card.
An hour or so later when pondering the coincidence of it all, I checked the cemetery website and they had a grave locator online. If only I had thought to check that before going to the cemetary but in the end, that's how life works out. So, I check for my fallen soldier, and will you believe that the section I was the head of, the section of a thousand graves, out of 10,000 was the section my soldier was buried in? I was heading section Seven and there he was. I could picture the spont he had to have been in. I had spoken of him while walking through the snow and placing wreaths. And there he was.
When I sad down and really thought about it, I don't think any of it is a coincidence. I think it falls under the saying "God works in mysterious ways". As I type this now, I'm still struck by the amount of ways he worked. When we arrived at the WAA event, we signed up and were given Section Seven, it wasn't a pre-determined thing. When we got to the section-the leader hadn't shown up, and I became the head because no one else was a part of the organization, so I took over by default. It just meant I spent a lot of time there, thinking, walking, honoring...
I have since been able to keep in contact every now and again with my fallen soldier's uncle. They miss him dearly but are trying to cope and help other Gold Star families cope together. I wouldn't have known about this soldier without email notifications from a very special group of people. The work we do is important. These soldiers are more important than words can say. God Bless all of you for what you do.
As a sidenote-the picture posted is something I found today while helping a group out I volunteer for. I knew she had helped supply the flags for this soldier's procession-to make sure it was lined with people holding flags-but she had a picture of the flag at half-mast at a local school on the day of his wake. I thought it was fitting to be included.
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