You Should Be Here

You'd be loving this. You'd be freaking out. You'd be smiling. Yeah, I know you'd be all about what's going on right here, right now. I wish somehow you could be here. 

Mark loved and took advantage of any and every opportunity he could to honor those who served. He taught me what it is to be patriotic, and I dare say that, odd as it seems, being the suicide widow of a United States Marine is something of which I am tremendously proud. I am a Gold Star Wife, another title I am learning to embrace, and a very proud American. And I am having a DOOZY of a time getting through this Memorial Day weekend.

I was once an ignorant civilian like most of you and would say stupidly careless things like "HAPPY Memorial Day". This is not an insult; it's a fact. If you've never served or lived in a military family, you simply do not know what it's like and don't have the fortune of viewing things from a military perspective. Having grown up a rather liberal New Englander, marrying into the military and subsequently spending a brief period of time stationed at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina was a real eye opener; I very quickly began to appreciate the shifts in my views on many topics. Losing my husband to suicide not even two years into our marriage was so life-altering that there aren't even words that properly express the degree to which it changed everything for me. And I couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity to share some of the things you are about to read.

Truly, I've been harboring most of this and not sharing it publicly for nearly the entire two years since Mark's suicide, but Memorial Day is giving me all the feels. I find myself in awe of the excitement and pride I feel to tell you what has long occurred to me as really awful news about Mark. Grief is weird, but the truth shall set you free!

For the record, I remain a pretty hardcore Democrat. When we first got married, I had a hard time feeling like I "fit in" as a military wife. I'm quite loud and outspoken, you see. This is not intended to be a political post, but my intention is to educate people. There are so many stereotypes about military families being conservative that I think it's important to provide some context about me. That said, I really miss Obama, and I cringe just about every time Trump speaks. I read Hilary's book a few months ago, but I've also read several memoirs by Medal of Honor recipients. I don't base my friendships on politics, though, and I happen to spend a lot of time with gun-loving Republicans, especially since Mark died. My point is, I'm open-minded. There are stereotypes, but a lot of us can see and hear all sides and views. For example, I'm all about freedom of speech and feel that if somebody wants to kneel during the national anthem, that is their right; our service members defend that right. I think it is arrogant to suggest that people who "disrespect the flag have never been handed one" (i.e. at a military funeral service). That's ridiculous. I've been handed a flag, and I am not insulted when somebody invokes their right to protest peacefully. On the other hand, I'd also like to make it known that I personally won't ever do that. I stand still when I hear Taps, I have an American flag hanging in my room and I've also, on multiple occasions, gone into businesses to inform them when the flag they have hanging outside is in poor condition and needs to be replaced.

Seriously, people, if you're going to hang a flag, please keep it in good condition. I learned that at a young age, and it stuck. 

I digress. And I see I'm not sure how to not have this post be at least slightly political. But I promise there's a point to this. Like I said, I felt a bit out of place as a very liberal person surrounded by some pretty conservative values when Mark and I were in Camp Lejeune. In all situations, I think the best you can do is keep an open mind; it has certainly served me well. Interestingly, my life is far more influenced by the military now that Mark is dead than it was when he was alive. While we were married, I felt very out of the loop and as if I didn't get the "military family" that so many other spouses I knew had. I know now that this is primarily due to Mark's gambling addiction and compulsive lying. He never told the whole truth, so it was simply not possible for me to have a different experience. All the same, I was very grateful for my newfound appreciation for those who serve. 

But then Mark killed himself. Death is hard enough without having to deal with just about every single person you talk to about it being confronted by the cause of death. Suicide is awful. It's not like any other death. It's confusing. It's traumatizing. It's heartbreaking. I didn't know in the beginning how much of an uphill battle my life was going to be simply because Mark died by his own hand and not from any other cause. He killed himself on 2July2016. It was a Saturday, making it a long weekend for the 4th that Monday. Three of his Marines were among the first people I called to personally inform them about what happened. They needed to know. They were his people, and they were some of the only people I wanted to talk to. And thank goodness I did because they made it clear that not only were they Mark's family, but they were also mine. Each conversation warmed me a bit; I was being taken care of by my military family. Then one of the guys called me back on the 4th with some bad news.

I know what you're thinking: How can there be any more bad news? My husband had already shot himself just two days after I told him I was going to divorce him, a decision I made in order to free myself from the mess of lies and financial breakdown I had been putting up with due to his gambling addiction. How can it get any worse than that?

Unbeknownst to me, Mark was UA. In other words, he was AWOL, which means he had stopped showing up for his military duties. This is a big no-no, as you can imagine, and had he been Active Duty at the time, any infraction on his part likely would have had him court-martialed. Through a few more phone calls with some of his higher-ups, I found out he was on his way to being dishonorably discharged from the Marine Corps. 

America, happy birthday! Go celebrate and have fun!
Maggie, here's another s*** sandwich for you. Life has decided that your reality hasn't been warped enough, so we're throwing in this plot twist to test you and see how long you last before completely losing your mind. It's not looking like you have much time. Grab a paper bag and breathe. Then have a drink. Or ten.

WORST. FOURTH OF JULY. EVER.

I had more of a reaction to that news than I did when I was told he had killed himself.

Police Officer: Your husband is deceased.
Me: Okay.

Marine friend: So, apparently Mark was still in. He was UA and hadn't actually gotten out yet.
Me: I'm sorry, what?

Mark had lied about getting out of the military months before. In hindsight, there were some red flags about the complete lack of information regarding his supposed discharge. However, I'd only discovered the gambling that October, and that was taking up enough of my attention.  

Disclaimer: There's a reason this section of my site is titled "All the Words"; this is getting long. I am writing a book about Mark, his service and his suicide, but that will come later. I'll fill in the gaps on him being UA when I'm ready. You'll just have to wait and buy the book when it's published!

I felt so betrayed. Things were bad enough when we were married, so much so that I made the decision to no longer be married to him. Then he had to go and die. Oh, and he had to die by killing himself. I had barely begun to feel the love of my military family, and in an instant, I felt like I didn't even deserve that. My husband was such a liar that he'd messed up his military service. So, I spent the rest of that Independence Day drinking. And crying. And drinking some more. My friends, who are now my roomies, had their annual 4th of July party. Mark was supposed to be there, too. He was not. But I was, and so were my many drunken emotions. I don't remember much, though I do recall blubbering into a friend's shirt and requesting that we play the song for which this post is titled. And yelling. Oh, I was loud. And drunk.

Did I mention drunk?

Needless to say, it's been hard dealing with this. Due to some technicalities, Mark was still IN the military when he died, hence my status as a Gold Star Wife, but I didn't feel much like claiming that dreaded title for quite a while. I didn't think I deserved it, and I even threatened (very loudly while hungover on July 5th and sitting on my friend's porch for all the neighbors to hear) that I didn't want to go to his funeral because I didn't want to honor a dishonorable person. I had already felt like a subpar Marine wife. What the hell was I supposed to do as the widow of a runaway Marine who lied so compulsively that his addiction led him to killing himself? It's taken me two years to even say any of this publicly. I was so ashamed, mostly of myself for being so stupid that I didn't even know that my Marine husband was suffering so badly that he had stopped going to drill and being the one thing of which he was most proud. Let's add in that his suicide happened two days after I told him I was done being married to him. Wife of the year over here! I didn't even want to be his wife anymore, but I didn't have to be when I became "Mark's widow" at the ripe old age of twenty-eight.

Given my new reality, and that I'm now almost two years into it, I've learned a lot about suicide, veteran suicide in particular. I had no idea that it would turn into such a passion, if that's even the right word, or that it would take me so long to be able to share any of this. I'm still learning more about it and seeing everything that happened from new perspectives as time passes and the wounds heal. If somebody had ever told me before that I would someday be an expert on suicide, I would've thought they were on drugs. But here we are, and there are some things I think you should know.

As a society, we tend to glorify veteran suicide like it's some heroic act. It took about a week for me to realize that people have one idea about veteran suicide: PTSD after a combat deployment somewhere "over there", followed by years of substance abuse and long lines at the VA with doctors who write too many prescriptions. That may be the case for some, and it's a very real issue. I've dated that. I've hooked up with that. I've grieved suicides that resulted from that. But that wasn't Mark, and it's not the case for most veteran suicides. Mark never deployed. He didn't have PTSD, though he gifted it to me. He had an addiction, and there was nothing glorious about it. At first, I had to get the courage to even post about his suicide on social media. I wanted to respect his family's beliefs in the beginning, but I knew it wouldn't be long before I was speaking up about Mark's suicide.

Then I had to get comfortable talking about it being a VETERAN suicide. I was shocked when two important people in my life told me that my posts on social media were glorifying his death. You might even be thinking it now that you know the truth about Mark's service, which is a big part of why I didn't want to tell anybody. I want him to be honored and for people to remember all the good about him. There was so much good; why ruin it with the bad? Even before I knew how to honor him myself, I somehow knew that's what I wanted to do. (And to be clear, I had ZERO interest in saying anything nice about Mark for a very long time because I was too busy being enraged.) It didn't help when people I care about and trust suggested that I was making his suicide look heroic when it was actually something to be ashamed of. But to suggest that his suicide had nothing to do with his military service would be absurd. Telling him I was going to divorce him might have been the last straw on the camel's back, but the real load that he carried was the shame about going UA. I remember when I first noticed that something was off about Mark, and I found out after he died that it was the same time as an incident that happened the last time he went to drill. But my friends couldn't have known that, and their opinions only proved to me that there's a lot for people to learn, like how Memorial Day isn't just a three-day weekend and there's really nothing happy about it. 

Last year was the first year I cared about Memorial Day. I used to view it as the start of the summer. It was a day for cookouts and some red, white and blue. I'd usually make myself feel pretty good with a post thanking our service members, but I didn't know what it's REALLY about. So, it's okay if you don't either; I'll teach you. Memorial Day is not a day to thank a service member of veteran.

EVERY day is a day to thank a service member or veteran, silly!

But really, it is a day to remember (reMEMber... MEMORY... MEMORIAL... hint hint hint) those who died while serving our country in the armed forces. I didn't want to do that last year. I remember the moment that I realized that Memorial Day would never be the same for me; it was not pleasant. Alas, I somehow managed to survive my first Memorial Day weekend since Mark's suicide. I found out that Veterans for Peace has a ceremony near the Midway in downtown San Diego. Truth be told, I thought that maybe they were a bit of a rebellious group and wouldn't mind that Mark's death was a bit scandalous, at least in my opinion at the time. I found it hard to believe that anybody else would actually want to do anything in memory of a Marine gone UA whose widow wanted to divorce him. (I know better now, thanks to my fellow widows, Mark's Marines, and TAPS, an organization that has been nothing short of a miracle in my own healing and that of thousands of others grieving the loss of their own service member.) Of course, Veterans for Peace was honored to fulfill my request to have Mark's name added to the incredibly long list of deceased service members whose names they would be reading off throughout the day. To them, and every other service member I've ever met, the cause of death is irrelevant. I brought a picture of Mark for them to post on the lawn where they had mock tombstones: white with names for those who were KIA or died by other causes, and black for those who died by suicide. One of Mark's Marines joined me for a brief ceremony. It was perfect.

I'll be going to the Veterans for Peace ceremony again tomorrow morning. I think Mark would love it. As I said in the beginning of this short novel, he loved to honor those who served. He was so proud to be a Marine. He didn't talk about anything with the same love with which he spoke about all things related to the Marine Corps. I swear it brought out a twinkle in his eye. It was such a privilege to have even witnessed how much he loved it. I will also have the privilege of sharing a few drinks with one, maybe two of his Marines tomorrow afternoon. I love our visits and spending time with my Marine Corps family. It's different from hanging out with civilians, and we have an unspoken understanding of each other. I'm so grateful for them and the relationships I now have, even the ones that have been a bit rocky. 

I don't know what you have planned for tomorrow, but I request you take a moment to remember those who gave all. Have your cookouts and enjoy your day off, but when you have a drink, drink to those who are no longer here. Maybe have a drink for Mark. And for the love of goodness, please don't say "HAPPY Memorial Day". I spent most of Friday crying and sobbed my way around Michael's craft store holding a flag case/shadow box that I was finally ready to buy so I can display Mark's flag. I then spent the night mustering up every ounce and cell of creativity in my body so I could put it together, and that's hard to do when you only have about seven cells of creativity and a lot of emotions happening all at once. A few hours after it was mostly done, two of the pieces in the box fell. Not even twenty-four hours later, I put it on the floor in my room and covered it with blankets because I just can't look at it. So, no, this is not a HAPPY weekend. It's wonky. You can be as happy as I am for how strong my growth game is over here, and I do hope you experience even an ounce of the pride I am feeling on so many levels right now. But please respect that you get a day off for a reason.

*For further information on the statistics surrounding veteran suicide, please see the VA's reports. It's fantastic that people know and talk about the 22 veteran suicides a day, AND it's not accurate. The report is very clear about this, and it's public information. You can Google it. Good news: Things have improved, and the latest report dropped the number from 22 to 20. 
**For further ideas on some ways to acknowledge Memorial Day, you can Google that, too! There are some marvelous foundations and ceremonies happening everywhere! Some recommendations for your Google searches: poppies, MURPH, wear blue. 
***Please visit taps.org for further information on the amazing work they are doing for military families.