4/3/2020, my husband of 18.5 years died of Multiple Myeloma (bone cancer) caused by Agent Orange (AO). Bone cancer was the second "gift" he received from AO. At the age of 26 he was diagnosed with a degenerative neuromuscular disease and given 20 years till he became a quadriplegic. I met him at year 20, still walking with a cane. Four years later he became wheelchair bound after a fall.That was when we found out about the bone cancer. I became his primary care giver for the next 20 years. As his bone cancer was being treated he became a quadriplegic. In spite of it all, my husband said he would serve again. His only regret was that AO shortened the time he could serve, not that he would die from it. His death was 100% service connected. He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Memorial Day has a more personal feel now.
Jimmie was an amazing man. He continued to have a positive attitude inspite of it all. He was charismatic and his laugh made his friends smile. The day after hearing about his bone cancer diagnosis, he told me not to worry about it, "it's just a small mountain for a mountain climber." I believe his positive attitude and excellent care from the VA kept him alive as long as it did. Though I have been told our love for each other kept him alive for 15 extra years.
When I was a toddler, 1953, my mother’s cousin Freddie, was killed in Korea. He was riding in a jeep that exploded when it ran over a hidden mine. Funerals were family events and services were held graveside. I was two plus and it was a cold day. I remember I wore a wine wool coat and matching bonnet. The adults were gathered together at the side of the coffin as the priest gave final prayers. In the distance I heard sound and I was mesmerized. Taps was being played. I wandered about until I found the source, a man in uniform hidden behind a tree. Times were different then and children wandered in safety. Today, I remember that day, the sadness of the loss of a young man not yet 20 and all the families who lost a precious family member to war.
I am named after a great-uncle who died from being exposed to poisonous gas in WWI in Europe. He returned home after the incident. My mother remembers being bounced on his knee, I guess, you could say while he was in hospice. Makes you place a greater value on life and have a deeper respect for those who made the ultimate sacrifice so long ago.
As you grow older you become more aware of death. Last words hold greater meaning. Regretful words or deeds carry more impact. Being preceded in death by a younger loved one I hope to never experience.
Oh, yes—my sister/husband/niece are a Gold Star Family for 33 years now. We remember Ernie each and every year on his birthday, Memorial Day, and the day he died. At the other extreme, volunteering with NODA brought me up short in recognizing all who die with no family to care. Death is more than sobering.
4/3/2020, my husband of 18.5 years died of Multiple Myeloma (bone cancer) caused by Agent Orange (AO). Bone cancer was the second "gift" he received from AO. At the age of 26 he was diagnosed with a degenerative neuromuscular disease and given 20 years till he became a quadriplegic. I met him at year 20, still walking with a cane. Four years later he became wheelchair bound after a fall.That was when we found out about the bone cancer. I became his primary care giver for the next 20 years. As his bone cancer was being treated he became a quadriplegic. In spite of it all, my husband said he would serve again. His only regret was that AO shortened the time he could serve, not that he would die from it. His death was 100% service connected. He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Memorial Day has a more personal feel now.
Lisa, what an ordeal for him. And for you. I’m sorry for the grief you carry. He sounds like a tremendous person.
Jimmie was an amazing man. He continued to have a positive attitude inspite of it all. He was charismatic and his laugh made his friends smile. The day after hearing about his bone cancer diagnosis, he told me not to worry about it, "it's just a small mountain for a mountain climber." I believe his positive attitude and excellent care from the VA kept him alive as long as it did. Though I have been told our love for each other kept him alive for 15 extra years.
Oh what a touching story of interweaving grief on this Memorial day. Thank you for sharing it and for your ministry to Rose.
Thank you!
Loved this story!!
Thank you very much!
When I was a toddler, 1953, my mother’s cousin Freddie, was killed in Korea. He was riding in a jeep that exploded when it ran over a hidden mine. Funerals were family events and services were held graveside. I was two plus and it was a cold day. I remember I wore a wine wool coat and matching bonnet. The adults were gathered together at the side of the coffin as the priest gave final prayers. In the distance I heard sound and I was mesmerized. Taps was being played. I wandered about until I found the source, a man in uniform hidden behind a tree. Times were different then and children wandered in safety. Today, I remember that day, the sadness of the loss of a young man not yet 20 and all the families who lost a precious family member to war.
What a powerful memory!
Thank you. 😢
I am named after a great-uncle who died from being exposed to poisonous gas in WWI in Europe. He returned home after the incident. My mother remembers being bounced on his knee, I guess, you could say while he was in hospice. Makes you place a greater value on life and have a deeper respect for those who made the ultimate sacrifice so long ago.
For sure. It’s lovely to know that you’ve carried his name and memory forward.
As you grow older you become more aware of death. Last words hold greater meaning. Regretful words or deeds carry more impact. Being preceded in death by a younger loved one I hope to never experience.
True, all of that. ❤️
Oh, yes—my sister/husband/niece are a Gold Star Family for 33 years now. We remember Ernie each and every year on his birthday, Memorial Day, and the day he died. At the other extreme, volunteering with NODA brought me up short in recognizing all who die with no family to care. Death is more than sobering.
Mmm…so poignant. I’m so sorry for that big loss for your family.