I've been in funeral homes for three days. A childhood friend died in Iraq recently and his funeral was on Monday. And then, on Friday my wife's step-brother died and his funeral was on Tuesday.
My friend's funeral hit me harder than I expected. It might have been because we grew apart and haven't talked or seen each other in years. Or, it could be that he was twenty-eight years old. Or, it could have been that he was killed in Iraq (unexpected death). Or it might be all of those reasons and more. I was completely devastated by the funeral. He was such a wonderful person and I wish I would have been around him more. Now there's absolutely no way of spending time with him. I will probably be writing about him just to put who he was and what I'm feeling in writing and off my mind.
A little history of one of the people this world lost:
I knew him from about the time he was three. He was the oldest child with three sister. His father was a mean drunk/druggie that my uncle ran around with. He died when Danny-boy (what we called him because him and his father had the same name) was about seven or eight (?). He died while running from the police when he wrecked his truck, rolling it over several times, with him going out the window and the truck rolling over onto his head. I believe his mother worked but it was part-time because she had four young children to raise.
When he came to our house everything I had was his. We would play matchbox cars for hours, and when we were a little older we would play Nintendo and computer games. My parents would buy them Christmas and birthday gifts so they would have something.
Their mother walked everywhere as they couldn't afford a car - to work, the store, everywhere for everything. There were very few times that she would except help, and it was only from certain people. And above all, she would never ask for help as she was a very proud woman. Danny would use his money buy food and pay bills. Danny would work doing odd jobs from that point on to bring in money for his family. He would shovel snow, rake leaves, deliver papers, and anything else to make money for his family. He made an adult salary from a very young age. They literally would have had nothing if not for him. If his mother was making dinner and realized she didn't have what she needed, he would jump on his bicycle and ride to the store to buy what she needed; no questions asked, no complaints. He would buy Christmas gifts for his sisters. He wouldn't eat until after his sisters did to make sure there was enough; if there wasn't, he would go without.
He practically raised his three sisters. He was the only father figure they really had. He would keep a "Treasure Chest" filled with candy and little toys. When they did something worthy of a reward they got to take something from the "chest".
From a young age he accepted Jesus Christ as his savior and made sure to tithe, sending ten percent of everything he made to his church, even when he went into the military. He started going to church when he was at our house because a local church would drive an old school bus around and pick up children for bible school. We went together for several years, Danny went until his death. We were even Baptists together. The pastor became his father figure and took him like his own son, who would become his best friend. Knowing this now, I would do anything for the pastor as he kept Danny from a life of despair and probably out of prison.
He saved every penny that he could. When he graduated from high school, he bought his mother a house; with cash! He idealized her and did everything he could to help her. He was never married. Never had any children. He NEVER complained about doing all of this and did it with great joy. I never knew him to say a bad word about anyone, and I never knew him to get into a fight.
He joined the Army and served his time. When he got out of the military he became a Pennsylvania State Trooper. He was working in the Philadelphia area and was a Police officer for two years. He volunteered to go to Iraq because he didn't like being a cop. He said he felt safer when he was in the war. He was planning on quitting the force when he returned. I'm not sure, but I believe he was going to be a pastor.
I gathered from his funeral that everyone he came in contact with loved, respected, looked up to, or came away with something that would last a lifetime.
I would guess that there were over three hundred people there to show their respect. Many members of the Army, as well as a few Marines, Air Force, and Navy personnel - about one hundred in all. Pennsylvania State Troopers, New Jersey State Troopers, Delaware State Troopers, and several from local Sheriff's departments - again, about one hundred in all. Then there were another hundred or so family and friends. The procession took around forty-five minutes and we only went approximately a half mile. Along the way we passed the Department Of transportation, they were on the sidewalk holding pictures of the flag they printed on their computers. He was truly and honestly given a hero's send off.
One of the hardest parts of the funeral for me was the reading of a letter. His pastor told everyone that Danny gave him a letter before he left. He was told to put it somewhere safe in the event something happened to him. He had someone else open and read the letter as he couldn't do it without breaking down. The letter floored me because I knew by what was said and the manner in which it was written that it was straight from Danny. He gave specific details of how he wanted his funeral to go. He told his sisters that he loved them and was very proud of the women they had become. He he told his mother that he loved her and was sorry for making her worry, but most of all, he was sorry for hurting her so much by not returning home. He told everyone not to be sad for him because he died for his country which was an incredible honor for him and that if he had everything to do over again - he wouldn't change a thing as he was doing what he believed in.
That's all I can say/write for now, it's getting too difficult. I'll pull myself together and talk/write more about Danny and his funeral, as well as my wife's step-brother and his funeral at another time.
Best.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
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