Diary of a Mom of a Fallen Marine
Thursday, August 31, 2017. Anthony, Marcel, Louis were all peacefully sleeping at home while Frank, my husband, and John were up at the cabin. Frank had repairs to make, so John went with him and I decided to stay home as Anthony had classes and Lou was not always well behaved at the cabin. This is the first sign of God’s mercy. If we would have all gone, Anthony would have been by himself when the Marines showed up at our door.
5:50am the back doorbell rang. Was it the wind, a storm or the dogs making it ring so early in the morning? It mysteriously rang a second time, which made me out of bed and yelled for Anthony. I peered, inconspicuously, out the kitchen window to find a man walking away from the door. The front doorbell rang which made me prepare to call 911, not knowing who it was. I walked toward the door and saw a man standing at attention outside the door. I asked, “Who is it?” “United States Marine Corp, Mam!” My heart sank, I started to shake as I opened the door. I yelled, “Don’t you tell me my son is not OK!” The Marines, dressed in their formal attire (green suit), asked if we could sit down. I told them, boldly, “Don’t tell me anything yet, don’t tell me anything, I have to get my son here!” My eldest son, Ty, lives just 3 miles away. I wanted him here since my husband was not home; I needed his strength. By that time Anthony woke up Marcel, and it is worth noting, Lou stayed asleep the whole time during these earth shattering moments, obviously, another act of God’s mercy. Louis could have never handled the strangers in the house, nor the cries of his Mother and brothers. Lou would not understand and still does not understand Michael’s death. I called Ty’s cell phone about 6 times, no answer. I then called Bernadette’s (Ty’s wife) cell phone, no answer. Marcel drove to Ty’s house to let him know the Marines were here, and that I wanted him with us.
Meanwhile, I called the priory and left a message that the Marines were at the door and they were probably going to tell me Michael was dead. Lord have mercy on us. I called Tara, no answer. She called back and I said, “The Marines were here and they’re going to tell me Michael is dead. Tara said, “What are you going to do?” I curtly told her, “You get your kids out of bed and start praying for us!” Another act of God’s mercy, I got 10 minutes to prepare myself for what I knew what I was going to hear. But, I hoped. I clung to a little hope that I was wrong. I was shaking and pacing. What took Ty so long?!
Fr. Webber then returned my call and asked if I wanted him to come over. “Yes!” I implored. He said he would be there in 15 minutes.
Ty, finally arrived and sat on the couch with me. I told him to hold me and then the Gunnery Sergeant read the report that said Michael was dead. I cried and shook. Ty asked questions. The Gunnery Sergeant said Michael’s GPS tracker showed Michael was not moving so the emergency vehicles went to him and found him unresponsive. We were all so emotional. Was this really happening? Was this a dream? The Marines asked when Frank would return and if they should come back to tell him. We decided we would tell Frank. The Marines were to return on Friday for paperwork.
Soon thereafter, Fr. Webber and Fr. Angele arrived at the house. The Marines left, knowing the priests would care for us.
At first, I thought it best that Ty would drive with the priests to tell Frank then I thought it would be best I told him the tragic news. Ty did not need to do that…… it was my job. I was not trying to avoid the most difficult job a wife had to do, but I thought it would be best I would stay home with Lou and the boys. However, I realized how difficult that would be for Ty to have to tell his Father, so I went. Ty and Bernadette still had the unbearable job of informing Michael’s two sisters, Grandmothers, Aunts and Uncles.
Fr. Webber and Fr. Angele drove me to the cabin. Those were the longest 2 hours of my life.
I wanted to tell the whole world Michael had died and to please pray for him and pray for us but I could not until Frank knew. I needed prayers!
How do I tell Frank? What do I say? I was nervous, scared, weak and shocked. We arrived at the cabin. Frank was downstairs sanding the door to the laundry room. He saw me and then saw Fr. Webber, smiled and said so sweetly, “Oh, Hi Father.” His expression soon turned to one of fear and asked, “What’s wrong?” I quietly said, “The United States Marine Corp came this morning, Michael is dead.” It seems so blunt, so harsh, so dry but how else can a wife give such earth shattering news to her husband, Michael’s Father? I told Frank I wanted him to sit down on the couch. I remember helping him to the couch, not that he needed help, but I felt I needed to help him. I barely remember what John was doing but I think he was sitting by Fr. Webber. Thank the good God for Fr. Webber.
Fr Angele left and Frank and I prepared the cabin quickly so we can depart and be with the kids at home. Fr. Webber drove us home.
Now it was time to tell the whole world the devastating news. I could not speak to anyone but I left several texts, “Michael died last night in a training maneuver. Please pass around to pray for his soul and our strength.” The return text messages starting coming in. Thank the good God. I needed that support, that love, that consolation which helps to get through this most difficult time. Fr. Sick called me and said, “This cross has been given to you and your family so you can reach a higher sanctity that you probably could not have reached without it.” He went on to say, with a little reluctance yet he knew he had to say, “The graces are there for you and your family to become stronger together or if we don’t accept the graces it can pull our family apart.” We knew this was a special cross, but how does one carry it? Fr. Sick later sent a text and said he was able to pray at the National Shrine of Our Lady of Providence that day and he sent a quote for the Litany of Our Lady of Providence, “Our Lady of Providence, who surrendered to what God asked of you, pray for us. I still have that quote written on a plain piece of paper hanging off the edge of my kitchen counter.
The drive was soooo long. The traffic was horrific and we were sitting on the highway at a standstill for quite a long time. We were in shock. We dropped off Fr. Webber at the priory and proceeded home where Marcel and Ty were sitting in the garage waiting for us. Ty and Marcel greeted Dad and Dad and Ty embraced. Dad and Ty cried and held each other. IT WAS SO HORRIBLY HEART BREAKING! Marcel then came over to hold his Dad. I suppose things could always be worse but at that time it seemed nothing could have been sadder at that moment, nothing.
My daughter, Leah and her fiancé, Sebastian, arrived a couple of hours later from out of town. I remember embracing Leah and we both cried and I wailed. I have never wailed before in my life. It was strange to hear these sounds coming from me. The pain was and still is so deep, so deep.
Fr. Webber had a Requiem Mass for Michael at the priory at 4:00 that afternoon. Nothing can describe those moments after Mass. We were stunned, shocked and weak but we had to move on. We were in survival mode. Only by the grace of God could we move forward. Frank and I had to be strong for the kids and we needed to take care of Lou. Jodi, Lou’s favorite caregiver, came over on Friday to help with Lou. What a blessing that was. She also helped on Saturday. I do not think we could have done it without her. We were in such a fog, it was hard to stand tall. There was such a numbness and lack of concentration in everything we did. Simple things were difficult as we could not stay focused. When Frank talked about Michael, he could barely breathe. Heartbreaking for all of us, but it hurt even more deeply as we saw our “pillar”, my husband, my children’s Dad, weakened with deep sorrow.
That evening Bernie brought us food, not that we could eat much. Later, Leah took me to church. As I walked out of church, I simply wanted to slip off into the car but a dear friend pulled me over and held me and I just cried and cried. My friend said she would never forget Michael. One of my biggest fears is everyone will forget. Well, perhaps they will keep some memory, but this heavy cross is ours and will always be until the day we die and join Michael, God willing. We will never forget. To this day, it is as though we just lost Michael but now it has been 10 months. Does everyone remember and feel this pain as we do? I pray not. I pray no one feels the pain of losing a child. My own flesh and blood has died. Part of me has died. How could it be otherwise? I am his Mom.
For the next several weeks, the parish brought us food. I am so glad and grateful because we really could not concentrate on anything or stay organized to pull anything together. We were winded. We were struck.
Michael’s body came home September 8th. Fr. Webber went with us to greet the plane and Michael. Ty drove Bernie, Marcel, John, Fr. Webber and me. Frank and Anthony went with the Marines. I thought it was important for Frank to be with the Marines. Somehow, I thought he might find some comfort in doing so.
It seemed such a long time before Michael’s coffin came off the plane. All passengers waited to leave the plane until Michael was off. It was very moving. To see Michael’s coffin, draped in a flag, rolled down the ramp was crushing. The Marines, in their dress blues, saluted Michael and carried him to the hearse. I really hate that word now as it reminds me of such loneliness. I would have liked to have driven with Michael in that awful vehicle. I am sure that would have been a first! I probably broke all the rules but I walked briskly to touch my son’s casket. Tears. The Leathernecks (motor cycle patriots) escorted Michael to the funeral home. It was a beautiful procession. 1st Sergeant Lappe was Michael’s escort and what a wonderful man and Marine! He was like family to us. We took him in and treated him as such. To this day, 1st Sergeant Lappe keeps in contact with us. I am so grateful for his contact as it makes me feel close to Michael.
We were able to see Michael at the funeral home. Oh, how difficult that was but at the same time what a joy it was for Michael to be home. When I first saw Michael, I just called out his name, “Oh, Michael.” I cried and cried over his body and told him he did a good job, that he paved the way for us. I stood by his side as long as I could. It was hard to share him. I did not want to leave him. Michael looked so peaceful, still so handsome but his face was dark. I did not like the darkness. He was dressed in his dress blues.
A half of a week went by until my eldest daughter, Sr. Luc-Marie, came home for Michael’s wake and funeral. To see another loved one from our family return seemed to open any slight healing of a very deep wound.
September 15, Michael was given the most beautiful Solemn Requiem Mass. Many Marines came to Michael’s funeral. What a comfort it was for my family and me. Michael had the Honor Guard, 21 Gun Salute and Taps playing while many, many people came to help us put Michael to rest. A very tender moment, yet the most heart wrenching of all was the folding of the flag and presentation of the flag to my husband, Michael’s Dad. My husband embraced the flag as though it was Michael he was holding.
But all is not lost. Ten and a half months later, we are still broken but strong, only by the grace of God, and we are helping Michael to continue to “serve” through our service, our efforts for his honor as a Marine who died for his country. Michael gave the ultimate sacrifice which raises the bar for my family, for our friends, for me and hopefully others whose hearts have been touched by Michael’s sacrifice to give what we can to help others. In my heart, I know I can help my family and myself heal best by helping and serving others. My goal as a mother of a fallen Marine is to help others in need. Michael had a good education, so this is close to my heart and I believe it would make Michael happy. Michael’s little brother, Lou, requires special therapies. I want to be able to help these special kids and ease the financial burden of their families. Michael loved his little brother and had a special place in his heart for him. This too would make Michael happy.
Michael, I know you got my back, buddy, and I am trusting you to help your family, friends and your Mom heal by helping us make this a foundation a success to honor you by helping others. I love you, Michael!
I’ve read recently, the true way to mourn the dead is to take care of the living who belong to them.
Please help take care of us by helping us take care of others for Michael’s honor and for the honor of all those who serve.
Oorah! Semper fi!
Proud Marine Mom of a Fallen Hero