It is with great sadness that I follow-up my last post with the news that Bob Markham passed away the other night. A humble man with respect to his military service, Bob is truly a hero to Michael and to me, not just for that service, but because his calling was honoring those who have been killed in action in our most recent conflicts. His mission was to make sure those who died in Iraq and Afghanistan received the honor and remembrance that he and the veterans of Vietnam never received.

Bob’s mission was small, placing the flags on those graves in Riverside National Cemetery every Saturday, but so great and honoring in the lives of families left behind. Bob’s vision of America and its military was “old school” in some minds. Bob was proud to be an American and knew that serving in her military was a small sacrifice made in gratitude to those who have gone before and as a way of saying proudly, “this is my America.”

I hope that Michael and I can continue Bob’s tradition with the dedication and sense of obligation he felt. As Bob is reunited with his wife who was called home before him, I hope that he has a chance to speak with each and every veteran he honored, men and women whom he never met but whose memories he chose to keep alive. I hope he meets our son Rhys, whose memories we shared with Bob on many occasions. As God welcomed Bob home, I am quite sure He said, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

“Life will be brighter than noonday, and darkness will become like morning. You will be secure, because there is hope; you will look about you and take your rest in safety.” Job 11:17-18
Rest in safety Bob Markham. It was truly an honor to know you.

We are fortunate because we live near one of the 130 National Cemeteries in the United States. Everyone knows about Arlington National Cemetery near Washington, DC; few know about the others.

I say we’re fortunate for 2 reasons; one because our son Rhys is buried there and two, because being in the vicinity of a cemetery dedicated to our military veterans is a constant reminder of the sacrifices Americans make for their fellow citizens of the US and fellow citizens of the world. A visit to a National Cemetery is truly a humbling experience.

We put flags out every week on the graves of those brave men and women killed in combat during the current Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts, a mission that we have taken over for an aging and now sick veteran. We are proud to call Bob Markham our friend, a kind man, a former soldier, whose ministry in life since his wife’s death is to honor each young man and woman buried there who has died in combat in these current conflicts. We met Bob one Saturday while we were placing flowers on Rhys’ grave. We saw Bob many times after that, placing flags every Saturday. Often we saw only the results, as he was there earlier than anyone else. (more…)

It’s been 2 years since my son was killed by an IED in Iraq. The overwhelming grief has been replaced by bits and pieces of sadness and loss, tucked away in private moments. The amazing thing is that after this time there are still the dreaded “places to avoid.” They are not places like the cemetery where Rhys is buried. That is a place I love to go, to quietly contemplate a short life, well-lived. They are not places like Rhys’ room, or his favorite restaurant, or any of the places he like to frequent. The dreaded places are not even in the company of his friends.

The places I avoid have to do with the notification of a sudden, unexpected death of someone most dear to your heart.

Michael called me while I was driving very early in the morning on a freeway to get to a job. I thought it very odd that he would call me so early in the morning when normally he was still enjoying a warm bed. He casually asked me where I was and could I safely pull over to the side of the freeway for a second. It was LA traffic after all, but as I carefully made my way to the shoulder in the midst of the traffic, I heard Michael say, “It’s about Rhys.” My heart leapt to my throat as I pictured Rhys injured or maimed, my mind racing as to how we would get to him, how bad was it, what was expected. I stopped on the shoulder and asked, “What is it?” I will never forget that moment. “Our baby is dead,” Michael breathed.

That spot, that freeway, near the exit where I had to suddenly turn around is a place I try to avoid. I can’t completely avoid it of course, but it is definitely high on my list.

There are others, all of which have to do with that day, week, and month in time when life took a cruel and tragic turn. We cannot always avoid those places that suddenly bring that moment back as though it occurred only a moment ago. But it is best I think, to recognize the reasons that certain places bother us still, and to realize that this too is part of the healing journey we make. It is, I think, okay to avoid those places and not offer an explanation to anyone as to why we do.

As time passes, the desire to avoid a place may also pass. But the time for that decision if it comes at all, is entirely on one’s own timetable. Everything will ultimately fall into place exactly when it is supposed to. Until then, we journey onward.