Thursday, May 10, 2007

37 Years Ago Today...

On Sunday, May 10, 1970 a little baby boy was born. He was an answered prayer to two little girls. He was born on Mother's Day.

Soldier Boy's birth was joyfully celebrated. His proud dad took his two little girls to go see their brother for the first time. They were not allowed to go up to the room, so their mom had to
bring him to the window. The girls jumped for joy when they saw him. They waved and blew kisses. Their daddy took them to their favorite restaurant to eat dinner. They were allowed to toast their baby brother's birth with a sip of wine. It was their first taste. Their daddy asked the waiter to empty the bottle so they could take it home as a souvenir. The bottle is still in the mommy's and daddy's china cabinet.

He was loved by many. He had brown curly hair and hazel colored eyes. He had a smile that would melt hearts. His sisters loved him dearly. He was their little prince.

When he was born, his sisters were seven and six. The oldest developed a special bond with him. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. Many a times she would willingly take the blame for
things he did, to spare him punishment. He would cry and she'd tell him not to worry, that she
would always love him and take care of him. When he was afraid to sleep alone in his room, it was her bed he crawled into.

He grew to be quiet the charmer. He had charisma. Not only did girls love him, but guys wanted to be his friend. He was popular. He was an all around athlete. He played football, baseball and was in the wrestling team. He knew how to have fun. He lived life to it's fullest. He was in the Explorer Program. He hoped to be a police officer one day.

Once he graduated from high school, he decided to follow his father's and his brother in law's foot steps. He joined the army. He wanted to be all that he could be. His goal was to be a RANGER. He joined the 82nd Airborne Division. His family was proud of him. He was the apple of their eyes.

On Friday, March 17, 1990, he called his oldest sister. "Hey sweetie, how are my girls doing?" He always referred to his three nieces as, "his girls". They caught up on things that were going on. Just before they hung up, he told her, " I love you, thank you for everything you've done for me and thank George too." That's the last time she heard his voice.

Soldier Boy died in a car accident on Friday, March 17, 1990. He was 19 years old. He had gone to a party with some friends. He drank too much and had passed out. His friends put him in the front seat next to the driver. The driver was intoxicated too. So was his other friend in the back seat. While driving back to the barracks, the driver lost control of the car... he was speeding. The car hit the tree. The car was broken in half. Manuel's seat was ejected from the car. He was buckled to it. He died at the scene of the accident. It was twelve midnight. The driver walked away physically unscathed. But he was unable to deal with his friends death and was admitted to the psych ward. The young man in the back seat, lost one eye, had to have rods put on his back, broke his legs and arms. It was a tragic night for all three.

Since he was stationed in Ft. Bragg, it took 6 days to have him come home. When he arrived, there were orders saying his casket could not be opened. But we wanted to "see". We wanted to make sure. We were still hopeful it was all a mistake. We went through a lot of red tape, but we were able to see him. Gone was the handsome, young man we all knew and loved. He was not there. The accident had taken a toll on his body. Who we saw, didn't resemble my brother. They tried as hard as they could but even so, they failed. We buried him on March 23, 1990. My heart was buried along with him.

I miss him more than I care to even share. More than I can even allow myself to say or think about. My heart aches and cries. When the tears come and my heart pounds I want to let it all come out. Then I remember I need to be strong. There are others watching. I quickly wipe my
tears, put my shield up and put on my mask.

I try to remember... hope. Hope that one day I'll see him again. Hold him. Kiss him. Let him know just how much I've missed him. Till then... I cry, I ache... but I always have hope.

Lady G~
blessed sister of Soldier Boy


CaliforniaTeacherGuy said...

It's all right to take off the mask, Lady G. You don't have to be strong, for the One who loves you above all others says, "My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:9)

Lady G~ said...

I know you are right, but old bad habits are hard to break. I'm working on that. Thanks for you uplifting words or should I say, for sharing God's uplifting Word. :o)