A Unique Perspective

thud...........thud.........................thud......................thud....................

So many times I had stood in that place. The images are so burned into my mind that I dream of them, I relive them, I remember them.

"You've had a unique perspective to this war. Civilians don't see what you have. You've seen our side of it." That's what a Marine Casualty Officer said to me on Memorial Day this year in a late night phone call. He probably doesn't know that those words bounce in my brain and blow in the winds of my mind sometimes.

Marines, Army, National Guard, Navy, Air Force. Green Berets. A Major. A Private. EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal), Sergeants, Black Hawk pilot, Special Forces, a SEAL. So many others. At the time of this writing, it's been twenty-seven different heroes. And their families. The families.

thud...... thud..... thud......

The words spoken that most never hear; I have heard. I still hear them. "I just want to see his hands one more time...." I watched that mother touch her son's hands as they laid folded over each other motionless. I watched her stroke the folded flag as if it were his hands as she sat with her head hanging low. I still see her hands in my mind. I still clearly see the casket in the room where she touched him one last time. It's all recorded. It's all here in my mind and my soul.

I see the faces of the Fallen. I know their names. I know who loved them and I think of them more than they could possibly know.

"I need you to do me a favor and go give Jimmy me a kiss for me while I'm over here." That's what the former Marine asked me to do on the anniversary of his friend's death. He couldn't do it because he went back over there; this time in a position he can't or won't discuss. I had never gone without escorting a family. This would be the first time with no distractions.

I found Jimmy. I told him D had sent me. I brought my laptop- sat it open with a picture of D in the same spot and took a photo of the photo and texted it to Afghanistan. I gave Jimmy a kiss as promised. I told Jimmy I had been talking to his Mom. And I began to walk around. I saw another name I knew. Then there was another. And another. And another. And another...... I came across some people there who were visiting their Heroes and it occurred to me they knew one person or maybe two but they didn't walk between the stones leaving kisses on marker after marker after marker as I did. "You have a unique perspective......"

thud..... thud.............thud....................thud....................

I thought about the procession that had wound throughout DC and I remembered the look on people's faces as they realized what they were witnessing. I thought about how in all the times I had been to this sacred place- never had we been caught in pouring rain or feet of snow. Maybe a drizzle a few times; cold and snow sprinkled but never weather that was unbearable. I remembered that day I stood wearing purple and black as one family requested and heard the leaves rustle softly above me and felt the sun upon my face that early morning. I remembered the procession from Frederick to Arlington that had fire departments on EVERY SINGLE overpass the entire route with ladders raised and firefighters standing with flags flying above us. I thought of those times and more.

I thought of the faces of our Fallen Heroes. I thought of their mothers and fathers. Husbands and wives. Children and friends. Siblings and brothers and sisters they served with. I thought of the Christian, Jewish and non denominational services. The politicians, Generals and the Patriot Guard. The funeral directors who became friends for those few weeks. I thought of it all. And I could hear the sound of Taps.... the song that literally makes me cry every time I hear it now. Other people hear it and they think 'how beautiful'. I hear it and I am back on hallowed grounds.. watching her clutch the flag. Listening to tears and quiet sobs. I hear those sounds accompany the notes of the bugle. It's all intertwined and I hear that sound ....that ..... thud... thud... thud..... the sound that still echoes in my heart. As I write this I realize that his family doesn't even know I hear it. They don't know that it still pounds in my mind's ears.

As we come upon the second anniversary of the death of that Navy SEAL, I find myself thinking of that day at Arlington with his family and I reflect upon that 'unique perspective.' I had received an email from the Commander of his SEAL team. The weight of that statement does not fall lightly on me. How this girl from Dundalk that never should have amounted to much of anything had received an email from the Commander of a SEAL team is beyond me. This is what movies are made of and what our country is so in awe of. SEALs. They are what we think of as real life super heroes. The mysterious, larger than life and hidden in the shadows heroes. The email was to thank me and my team for caring for the SEAL's family. How could we not?

How can we not care for the families of those who protect us every single day?

Yet, there I was. Standing among the bravest, most honorable, and seriously bad ass in our Nation in the most sacred place in the United States. Arlington National Cemetery. They were here to send off their brother in a way that resonates with me still.

Thud...... thud.... thud..... the sound of punch after punch after punch....... I didn't understand at first. I didn't know why they struck the wood of that casket before it was lowered. Someone must have known I didn't understand because I remember a whisper in my ear. "They are punching the trident into the wood.." Thud......... thud............... thud................... each SEAL.... every one..... one punch each and there were so many of them. They gently pushed the trident points on the back of the pin into the wood and then THUD. Punched it into the wood. Of all the times I had been to this place, never had I heard the sound that I still hear today. That thud of love and devotion that only SEALs could understand but all of us watching could feel at that moment. How my life carried me to a path that led to that powerful moment I may never know but I do know that it left a mark in my heart and mind that was pounded deeper with each thud of the trident.

I remember that day. I remember each trip to that place. I remember the faces, the sounds, the smells and sights. I feel the cold ground under my boots in the winter. The sweat rolling down my face in the summer months while I stood quietly and choked back tears. 'Unique perspective'. I have had a unique perspective. It has been an honor and a travesty to have had the opportunity to walk those grounds so many times. Caring for families of our Nation's most selfless, courageous, remarkable Heroes has been a privilege that I wish I never had to have.

This is the tip of the proverbial ice berg of my 'unique perspective'. The rest stays within me and stays on the grounds of Arlington National Cemetery whispering in the trees and blowing in the winds of Section 60.

Never forget. Truly- never forget.....