GOLD STAR MOTHER's
…DAY ?
May 11
2008
Mother's
Day?
What is the meaning of
these two words?
By
The fact
is that there is no one left to call me Mother
anymore!
I need to
gather myself in order to remain psychologically sound.
As every
year, for four years, this year is unlike the last, as time goes, the harder,
the more excruciating the pain has become. I miss
Patrick's voice telling me:
I love you Mom...
..just calling out of the blue for no reason, that was typical of
Patrick .
I have
the regret to say that I had not fully grasped the deep meaning of his
spontaneous actions, I always have loved him so very much, just seeing him for
a short few minutes made my day worth while.
Patrick
was born 38 years ago (May 26 1970) at Stanford University Hospital, weighing
just over five pounds at 1:30 pm his birth took an hour, what an amazing day
that was, Bob and I just became parents of a child that one day would become a
legend in his own way and a role model for many.
What have
I accomplished since Patrick's death?
I feel as
I am drowning in the middle of an ocean without shores. I
cannot think of myself, my thoughts are not here.
Someone
said to me once: "Nadia everything that you do is
about Patrick or because of Patrick"
I never had thought of it this way, but it probably has some
truth!
Memories…My
Darling son has not faded in any way from my vision, my memory, and my emotions. Last week, walking by the wheat crackers section of the
supermarket, I suddenly burst into tears, seeing in my minds eye the very last
package that we had sent to Camp Anaconda, Patrick never received it... he was
killed instead and the package came back to us un-opened from Iraq, never got
his "Altama" desert boots either.
The boots
forever empty will never be worn and are now on
display near his medals and photographs.
On his
daily phone call, I remember his words with a heaviness of despair in his
voice, asking me if we had sent the package yet. He
needed his boots, the old pair was holding with duct tape.
I
remember three days after Patrick's death, his house in Tracy, was packed with
flowers and people, we happened to be watching a series of digital photographs
that the soldiers had send us from Iraq, on the computer with Jeanne (who had
babysat for him in Sunnyvale) others were standing behind my chair, suddenly we
stared at one-another with tears rolling down our cheeks while we all became
speechless the room stood in a perfect still, an heavenly sent of roses filled
the room so powerfully, after a moment Silvia shouted: Mom…it's Patrick, he his
here with us now…
I
remember the day of Patrick's Memorial at Fry's Chapel, hundred's of people
came, and many stood outside the chapel. Patrick
Junior and Janessa Marie were playing in the chapel
and laughing, I finally got a hold of Junior who was nine years old at the
time, and talk to him gently explaining and at the same time asking if he
understood that it was his father inside the flag draped coffin standing before
us and that was not respectful to run inside the place. Junior
looked at me and said:
yea grandma but, when is my Daddy coming home?
My jaw dropped, and I understood at this instant that we were
heading for a long haul of sad emptiness in our lives…
It was
hot, after briefly talking to the large number of media; we headed back to the
house, while Patrick's body left for his last Home in
She had
this marvelous spark in her eyes and smile that she only had in Patrick's
presence. I was choking and sobbing, in tears that
wouldn't stop, of course only Janessa
saw her Daddy, I felt Patrick's powerful and loving self…
There
isn't a moment in a day where his presence is not at my
side; Patrick is my strength, my motivation, my only reason of still existing.
With his love I made up a fabric of idealistic dreams dictated by his
very own.
The main
question is:
Is it
happening? Is the Dream Happening?
If it is,
then why does it seem never to end, the dream, I mean.
The
Centers, I can see them, touch them, walk in them; I know that the
materialization is near completion, the interest in the efficiency and purpose
of the vision itself has become national and even international.
Do I have
the power to close the chapter of this project before life exits my body? I am not so sure anymore.
I know
that I am at cross-roads where the choice is made available to me. The temptation of letting go is strong, not waking up
seems easy enough; my health is degrading on daily
basis.
The
challenge has become a black wall where I cannot see the top nor the end, I am
becoming exhausted, it is hard to breath, it is painful inhaling each breath
this body is telling me to hurry up and finish what I have started, I feel like
I am literally falling apart and I am not sure that I can reverse the process I
need a miracle to stay alive enough time to finish my mission... we will see!
Holding
on to life by a thread, I need to keep my vision
undisturbed until completion.
On the
other end I want to fulfill Patrick's wishes and be the
grandma that he wanted me to be.
Yes, but
what am I going to do about it?
I feel
very proud of my grand children, Junior has come a long way since Patrick's
death, every day he acts and looks more like his dad and he is becoming quiet
an athlete and a gentleman as well as a peace maker. Once
in a while he and I have a serious talk. Patrick would
be so proud of him now, and I make a point to tell him that, I also remind
Junior that he can do whatever he choose to do in life and stay with it, never
quit. Those are some of Patrick last words to Junior. I truly enjoy his company and conversation, he shows a
very healthy curiosity of a bright mind.
His Heart
is in a very good place, I love him very much.
My little
Janessa is still struggling hard, she needs her dad
so badly, they were so close to each other.
I
remember, when Patrick came home from boot camp, the family came to welcome him
in Santa Rosa airport, the soldiers lined up by the airplane and started to
walk in our direction there was quiet a distance and before any one of us could
see Patrick, Janessa started to climb the wire fence
and screaming Daddy Daddy my Daddy, Silvia and I had
a bad time holding on to her, she was 2 years old... She
eventually run off into the field toward the long line of National guardsmen
and women, straight to her Dad, Patrick did the same thing, run off from the
orderly walk to pick up Janessa in his strong arms
both laughing to tears and holding on tight to each other…it was quiet a site!
And then
there is the LION KING.
Patrick
and Janessa both were sitting in the master bedroom
watching the Lion King, Janessa would watch the
Disney feature 5 times (average) daily.
This took
place the night before Patrick left for deployment to
I was
listening to their voices thinking sadly that this family joy was coming to an end.
At the
part where the Lion King is killed in "an
ambush" betrayed by his brother, Janessa grabbed
on to her father so hard and made a knot of her little fingers around Patrick's
neck almost crying telling him:
"Daddy
that's you, Daddy that's you…"
Patrick
run to me in the kitchen where Silvia and I were cooking dinner for all of us,
and his face was flushed: Mom, do you know what Janessa
just told me?
I am not coming back am I Mom?
Of course I said, she is just a baby sweet heart, she doesn't
know…but, did Janessa have the knowledge of her
Daddy's faith?
After
that day Patrick had left his home never to walk trough the door again, it
became a tradition for Janessa and I to watch the
Lion King on daily basis and every time the film reached the death of the Lion
she curled up close to me and keep saying to me" Grandma that's my Daddy…
Her will
is strong and her heart is golden, she truly is a gift.
In some ways I am afraid for her she is such a rebel just like I, it
make me feel helpless, I know who she is.
Janessa is making so much progress in school now, thank goodness
for a great tutor.
Last
holiday was the closest of a Christmas we have had since 2004.
We
trooped together at Bob's house in Bella Vista with Janessa
Marie, Patrick Junior, Silvia and I. It was a delight
to watch Patrick's children
re-discovering each other after a much too long separation and
Lucky (Patrick's dog) was very joyful to see all of us.
The last
evening we had in
Later
that evening he asked me to get the Medicine Cards and he picked one of the
them, it was the RAVEN, laughing he pointed at his shoulder patch : Mom I am a
Raven! (Patrick was attached to the 81 Brigade from
The card
had this words to share "Open yourself to Miracles
Use new eyes, Believe in Magic Embrace life's Wonders"
Watching the crows and ravens flying
around us, Patrick would laugh and say: If I don't
make it back, I will be here watching over all of you, I will be.
Patrick was shot
eight times with the cards on his chest.
GOLDSTAR MOTHER * NADIA McCAFFREY * MOTHER IN BLACK * www.veteransvillage.org
* a nonprofit 501c3. Reach Out to
“If the American World Service Corps had existed when
my son were alive, he would have served in that… because he loved kids… and he
would be alive today…”
We owe all our moms another kind of peaceful,
productive 21st century AWSC army, so we will need fewer tearfully built
Veterans Villages in the future.
American World Service Corps
www.WorldServiceCorps.us
AWSC
summary info http://worldservicecorps.us/peoples%20lobby%20has.htm
People's
Lobby www.PeoplesLobby.us
Dwayne Hunn,
Executive Director 415-383-7880