It's a Memorial Day to Cry For

I cried this morning. That's nothing new. I cry a lot. I cry at everything. I cry at the TV. I cry if someone else is crying. I never let anyone cry alone.

This morning I was crying with Katie Stack. I don't know if she was crying but it's ok if she wasn't. I got this covered.

I don't really know Katie very well. I know she is a beautiful, joyous, sweet, and strong young woman. She has a little girl named Mikayla. I have met her but most of what I know of Katie, I know of through her Facebook posts, through what I hear from my son and my daughter-in-law who are her friends, and through the death of her husband, Lance Cpl. James B. Stack.

James was shot while on foot patrol in the Sangin Valley in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan. He was a Marine with the 3/5 Dark Horse.

I knew about the Sangin Valley before James' death. If you are the mother of a Marine, you know about the 3/5.

James, the Sangin Valley, and the 3/5 touched on that place for me that pulled back the curtain of denial and exposed the Wizard of Vulnerability. I could be James' mother. Katie could be my daughter-in-law. Mikayla could be my grandchildren. I felt it hard.

My son was the escort to bring James home to Illinois from Dover. There was a poignant picture published in their local newspaper with my son next to the airplane that he flew in on with James. He was hugging Katie. My heart broke. I could feel that moment for her. My son wasn't just her friend. He wasn't just the escort for her husband. He was the personification of a life that she had with her husband.

It's the beginning of the weekend to celebrate Memorial Day. I cried this morning because for the first time in my life, I really felt what that meant. Memorial Day is a day that we remember those that gave the greatest sacrifice for our country. I'm also remembering those that are left behind. 

Mikayla

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