She gets up every day and puts one foot in front of the other.  She goes to work and does her job to the best of her ability and yet….a Mother mourns.

She’s been doing the same job for well over 30 years.  She could do it in her sleep, she says.   She is the “go to” person when there are questions of how to handle things. 

Her personality is very dry, serious, but with a sense of humor, at times.  She is strong.  She is proud.  She is confident.   She can do anything on her own, and she has. 

She has a grandson, who is the light of her life, no matter how challenging he may be at 3 years old.  She doesn’t remember her own two boys, ever being this strong-willed, but they probably were the very same.  She was just younger then.   She raised those two boys as a single Mother, completely on her own.  Now, she mourns one of those boys, every day. 

It was the youngest son who made the decision after the 911 attacks, to join the military.  He wanted to do his part.  She was supportive of his decision.  It would give him a chance to see the world, she thought.  Soon after, the oldest son chose to join the military, as well.   It would be good for both of them.  However, now she found herself with both of her sons in a war zone.   They were now in a place that was beyond a Mother’s protection.  She worried a lot , and she prayed a lot.  “That’s all a Mother can do now” she would say.  So everyone kept them in their prayers. 

It was just days after Memorial Day.  She had worked that Tuesday and had just gotten home.   She was just starting to prepare dinner, when a black car pulled into her driveway, with two men inside.  She knew.  The doorbell rang.  She hesitated.  When she finally opened they door, all she could say is “which one.”   When they told her it was the youngest who had been killed, she broke down like any Mother would.  Her strength was broken and her heart was breaking.  You could see it.  The oldest son knew of his brother’s passing before his Mother did, since he was in the same war torn area,  but he couldn’t call home.  The older brother brought his little brother home.