Going There

My brother Mark was killed exactly a year ago. Since Thanksgiving I have been depressed. All of the feelings and experiences of last year have permeated me. It has been hard. To make matter's worse I had Perry at the ER this weekend - the exact spot when I was dropped the news of his death. It was so uncomfortable driving the road reliving it all.

A year ago Carlos and I were in Round Rock at the outpatient surgery center. Carlos was having nose surgery. I had read my book for as long as I could and needed a diversion. I left the waiting room, got in my car, and drove down the road to HEB (a grocery store) for some lunch. I distinctly remember contemplating whether or not to take my cell into the store. I left it in the car. I had a nice time leisurely looking around the store before picking up a favorite sushi roll for lunch. I returned to my car in the parking lot and ate my lunch while listening to the radio.

Shay had my kids. I was surprised kinda that she hadn't called me to make some silly comment or tell me how cute/annoying all the kids where being. I was on the highway back to the surgery center when I dialed her cell. I was perky and silly. She answered.

She was crying. I thought she was just fooling around as usual. She kept saying something,

"Did you talk to Dad?" Her voice was weird, shaky, excited.

I was lost. "What? No, I haven't.."

"HE'S DEAD Jennifer!!!! Mark's DEAD!!" More sobbing. The sounds she made hurt even to hear.

I was so confused. My first thought was, "Dad is dead? How can I talk to him if he is dead? What is going on?"

Just then my phone beeped signaling an incoming call. I looked down to see it was dad calling me. I quickly told Shay and hung up. I was spinning from confusion. There was a lot of traffic on the road, signs and signals that I had to pay attention to. I remember telling myself to keeps my wits about me, drive extra careful.

I clicked over to dad. His voice was slow, tense, sad. I don' remember the play by play but I remember him being composed for about 2 sentences and then losing it. He told me Mark had stepped on an explosive device last night during a routine raid. I was just numb. I didn't believe. Just numb. We got off the phone.

I was almost back to the surgery center. I remember telling myself to take extra care when parking my car to remember where I parked for later. I was so numb. I thought about my kids at Shay's. I hoped they were okay, Shay was freaking out. David wasn't there, Noel was on her way. Where my kids scared at what they were seeing and hearing?

I don't remember if I had a thousand questions. I just felt numbed, shocked. But my practical side was turned on too. Carlos was in surgery. I was in a public area. I thought things through. "Remember to look both ways for cars while walking in the road. I need to not make a scene in the lobby. I don't want to scare anyone. They are waiting for loved ones having surgery right now."

I walked to the reception's desk. I slowly spoke the the woman, "My husband is here having surgery right now. I am not worried about him. I just got a call that my brother was killed." She gasps. "I can't be here right now." The tears starting coming now. "I need to go somewhere, but I can't be here, in this room. Can you find me a place to go?" All the while she was looking around, thinking, and springing to action. She found a small private waiting room and left me with a nurse to stay by my side.

I was crying, finally feeling something. A couple different people came in and out of the room. Tissues and a soda were brought in to me. Nurses were speaking in hushed tones. Someone asked me if I would like the hospital's chaplain to come speak with me. I agreed.

Dad called again. I was broken this time. I wanted to know what exactly happened to Mark. I told him I had to see Mark. Dad didn't know the extent of damage done to Mark's body. "I don't care Dad, I HAVE to see him. I don't care what is left I have to see and touch him one last time. You tell the guys (Navy) that."

I crumbled onto the ground. I wanted to talk to Mom.

For the rest of my life I'll never forget the tangible pain in mom's voice. It was horrible to feel, to hear her anguish. It was so raw and bottomless. I couldn't understand her words, she was sobbing, whimpering. It was awful. I ached for her. I was scared after I got off the phone with her. I wondered if she would ever surface again.

I had a chaplain with me the remainder of Paco's surgery and recovery. She was so pleasant. The surgeon came out and expressed his sympathies. Paco's surgery had gone well. Shay, David, and Kavers came to drive us home at the surgery center's insistence. I held myself together for Carlos. I put on my normal face and swallowed down the past 2 hours.

Carlos was so out of it. I dressed him. Shay and I were chatty and pleasant the ride home. Carlos was oblivious. We got home, we got Carlos situated. The kids came home. I explained the best I could about Mark. They were so tender with me. They felt his loss, understood to the best of their abilities what it all meant.

Carlos was blitzed for the next 2 days. I will confess it was especially dark for me having to take care of him during this time. My shoulder to lean on was doped up out of his senses. Late that evening I told him, "Carlos, Mark was killed last night." He stood and hugged me, stunned. We stood there a few moments. I tucked him in bed and he was out. Several hours later he woke up and said he had a dream that Mark was killed. "Was that real?" he asked.

"Yes, baby Mark is dead."