Pokey's Last Victory

A few months ago we met the medic who worked on Pokey that day. He did an amazing job making sure my son had the best chance to live and got him to the surgeons alive. He told us that he had never know anyone so strong or who had fought so hard to live. Those words did not really fully hit me until I heard

“ He looked up at me, grinned and said ‘Hey’ ”

These were the words I heard from the amazing man who had held my son’s hand as they drove him to the medivac. This man never let go of my son’s hand from the moment the medic and he got to the seen until they put Pokey on the helicopter. He had tears in his eyes as he told me. I don’t think he will ever know how healing those words are for me. My son smiled. He wasn’t scared. Yes I realize he was in shock but to the very end he was true to himself and shared a smile with those who were with him. They broke his body beyond repair but they did not break his spirit, they didn’t break him. It is that grin that I see as my son’s last victory.

There were so many men who were a part of that day. The medic who worked so hard to make sure my son had a chance and gave it to him by getting him to the ER alive. The platoon Sgt who sprinted from the rear of the convoy to the front and then took charge to secure the area and make sure no one else was hurt and the men focused their attention on their jobs. The 1SG who held my son’s hand that day. The medivac team who got him to the ER in minutes and comforted him on the way. The surgeons who worked so hard to save him. They all worked so hard and did their jobs perfectly. I know they see it as a failure but in my eyes it was not. How can these men put their hearts souls, blood, sweat and tears into saving my son and be anything less than heroes to me.

The days that followed we got bits and pieces of the story. Within hours we finally had our first question answered... no one else had been hurt. The emails and calls came from Iraq. Reaching out to comfort us but to also find comfort from us. That was the beginning of the gift of these men in my life. A letter arrived telling me that if it had been anyone else my son would be the one to rally everyone and bring a smile back to the company and that in a way he had done just that as they all sat and shared stories of the things my son had done to relieve the tension and make those around him smile. I heard so often “He could make us laugh no matter how shitty the situation”.

In the end my son won a small victory for them all by grinning and saying “hey”. Now I need to help those who loved him too, see that he won. That yes his body was broken but not his spirit and that his spirit is in them and that it is ok for them too to smile and live life.

They're Home...

On Nov. 11th we packed our car and loaded up the family to head to Ft. Campbell. The men my son served with were on their way home from Iraq and I was finally going to get to meet and hug these men who have become so important in my life.

As we drove on Veteran's Day I thought about how lucky the people in this country are to have the men and women of our military. Between it being Veterans day and where we were heading I had no choice but to see things from a perspective most Americans fail to look at. We drove without fear of IEDs. There were no check points. We could stop along the way and not fear snipers or suicide bombers. When we were hungry we had a multitude of options. And I knew without a doubt that these freedoms and this security are due fully to the fact we have such an outstanding group of people who made the choice to wear the uniform and defend these things.

I realized also.. we have WON in Iraq. Yes we are still there. Yes there is still some fighting. But it is safer in Iraq for American troops than civilians in Chicago these days. The foundation of what we set out to do is set. Our goals met and the lives of the Iraq people will be better. They are now tasting freedom. And anyone that wants to argue and diminish that victory and take that from these men and my son can try. But facts are facts. No one but these men and their leaders can claim that victory.

As I watched the plane filled with America's finest land my heart leap and broke all in the same moment. I knew that from my son's Company he would be the only one not walking off that plane. But in a way few will ever comprehend, the last part of my son did get off that plane. His spirit is in each of them and with them he came home too.

The one thing that stands out the most from this trip is as I stood standing and talking to one of the men of my son's platoon I felt a tap on my shoulder. As I turned, I saw them all. They had gathered together to find me. There was a line of men who had smiles and hugs for me. I was introduced to family members as their "Army Mom". They still have no idea what a gift they are to me. There will be more meetings an more stories to share. There will be laughter and tears. But once again I saw the strength and selflessness of these men. My heroes.. my soldier family.

Home

When I announced early on after my son's death I would be at the homecoming of his fellow soldiers I received a lot of reactions. From how strong I must be to how crazy I am for putting myself in to a situation that would surely bring me more pain. What most did not understand is that early on I had been given one last gift by my son. The gift of these men who had a bond with him that I will never know but that I see, appreciate and respect. a part of him is with each other them.

In just a few short days the men my son lived, worked and fought beside will be home. Deployment has ended and they are all returning safe to the loving arms of their families. My son will be the only soldier from Bravo Company not walking off the plane this deployment. A fact that both hurts me deeply and relieves me. They all honored him by staying safe and coming home. Just as they assured me.

I will be there when these men walk off the plane. I will stand quietly in the background as they hug their families. I will wait my turn to finally meet and hug the men who have become so much a part of my life. And with each of them I will have one more part of my son home. Because he is with them. A part of him is in every single one of him and they are bringing the last part of him home with them. So in a way my son too will be on that plane.

Other Gold Star moms who attend these homecomings assure me the healing this will be for me. Of course as I look at this world of Gold Star Parent I have been thrust into I see that those who are best at living with this incredible pain are the ones who opened and accepted the gift of the men who shared the bond of brotherhood with their sons. They see our loved ones spirit is a part of each of these men and by embracing them we are embracing a part of our sons.

The down side to all this is I can not longer escape into fooling myself he is just in Iraq working anymore when my missing him becomes unbearable. I miss My Pokey so much and to have to accept the last reality that I will never hold him or hear his voice again is devasting the final thread in my rope of strength...

Mr. Rice

Over the past few weeks while I educated myself on the candidates running for office in my state I have come across several statements you have made concerning our involvement in the Iraq war. You have made statements such as there was never and is not now Al Qaeda in Iraq. Which is a bold face lie as even the 9-11 commission confirmed Al Qaeda was in Iraq before the attack on this country on 9-11-01. You have called Iraq a civil war and a waste of our troops time. Again belittling and minimizing the efforts they make there. You've called for surrender and state recently we have lost in Iraq. What you don't seem to understand is that everytime you make minimizing, belittling and unspportive statements about the mission our troops are on in Iraq you insult the men who are fighting there. You are telling the families of the fallen their son's and daughter's died in vain. I can not and will not stand for that to be said of any of our Fallen!

When you so completely insult the troops and demoralize them with your words you can not truly respect them. It makes reading a tribute to our fallen on your politcal website hollow and insulting to me. I read my son's name on your site and wonder how you think belittling what he died for can in anyway make it ok for you to falsely pretend to even care. I am almost positive that if I asked you face to face who Micheal Phillips is you would have no idea. You certainly have no idea the kind of man he was no do you even understand the spirit of the men who fight and thoe who have died for this country. And that makes your so called tribute nothing more than a political show.

Sharing

When my children were younger I taught them to share. I never thought that I would in my adult life have to learn that lesson again. My son Micheal does not belong to just me anymore. He belongs to this Nation. His life was given as a gift so they could continue to be free and live without fear. More and more I find his name on memorials and websites. For the most part they are tributes. Some are using this gift to further their causes or to make a statement against everything my son stood for and valued in life. There is nothing I can do about that.

Today another piece of my son was given. This time to the community I live it. I received a call from a friend telling me the man was there to add my son's name to the monument on Main st. He is the first soldier from this town to be lost in war since Vietnam. The 4th from the county. I watched as the man sandblasted my son's name onto the wall. And I could only say.. I don't want it to be there. But it is there and I know that he will be remembered.

Sometimes it is very hard to share the memories of my son. But I do it. Not with everyone because there are those who use it to hurt me. When I do share him I hope that he will stop being just a name on a list and become a real person to those who listen. And through him the others who have given their lives for this Nation will also be seen as the real men and women they were.


He is my son but he is also the son of this Nation. It is something I am slowly learning to not only accept but appreciate. I have to share him because he made a choice to share himself with this Nation. Even is he had come home, a part of his life was given to the people of this country. He took a big responsibility on when he made that choice. He knew the risks. He also knew the value of that choice. I hope some day more people understand that gift and it's value. A gift given by so many who wear our Nation's uniforms.

The Dark Things

The darkness is coming again. I feel it like a slow moving fog coming over me. The hurt is more intense, the anger more encompassing, the sadness numbing. I slowly being to feel like I am on the outside of the world looking in. I just want to hide from it but know that it is part of me now and one can not hide from oneself. I try to push it down but it is so strong. I know why it's coming this time at least. That's something. Knowing why helps me fight it.

In a few days my second born will be 19. He is suppose to be the younger brother. But his older brother is and will forever be 19 now. I pray that in time I will get better at this. I have accepted the pain never stops or heals but I need to get better at dealing with it. I can not selfishly slide into these abysses and neglect my family and life. I can not be weak I have too many people to take care of.