by Eric:
When I met Amanda, I knew she was the one I would spend the rest of my life with.
She made me laugh and was so easy to talk too. We became good friends, were married, and began our life
together. Our son Dylan was born, and I honestly didn’t think life could get much better. We enjoyed each other’s
company and were looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together.
I had begun a career in the Coast Guard and was deployed often during our marriage. Amanda was extremely supportive of my career and took pride in the fact
that I was serving our country. She became an ombudsman for families of those on the boat I was stationed on. She helped Coast Guard families adjust to the strains of military life and made many friends in the process. She was given several awards
for her hard work and loved what she was doing. In addition she kept our home running smoothly and poured her life into
our son. They had a special bond as she was often both mother and father to him during my deployments.
When Dylan turned five, we found out we were expecting our second child. We were
excited at the prospect of expanding our family and began making plans for the new baby. I had been gone for several
months and was scheduled to return home December 18th. A few weeks earlier, my wife had emailed me an unusual request.
She wanted me to know that if anything ever happened to her, she wanted to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery. I assured her, she would be around long after I was gone (she was only twenty-five and I was seven years older),
and that she had many years before she should be thinking of choosing a cemetery. I also told her generally, they only
allow decorated veterans to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. Later, this conversation would cause me to wonder if Amanda somehow knew what lay ahead for her.
As December 18th grew closer, word came that my trip home would be delayed. Amanda
was almost eight months pregnant by now. I called Amanda to let her know I would not be home until the 24th of December.
She was insistent that she needed me home. She continued to tell me “you need to be home now”. There was
an urgency that I had never heard in her voice before. I managed to make it home on the 18th. Amanda wasn’t
feeling well. I assumed she was worn out from carrying the baby and taking care of Dylan while I was gone. On
December 20th, two days after I got home, Amanda said she was concerned that she hadn’t felt the baby move. She
was very tired and went to bed early. Around 2:00 a.m., she woke me and said she was having trouble breathing.
Her color was not good, so I called 911.
Dylan and I followed the ambulance to the hospital. By the time I got there, a chaplain
was walking out to meet me. He informed me that they had begun CPR. Thinking that he was talking about our baby,
I said “This is going to be so hard for my wife. How will I ever be able to tell her?” (Amanda had endured a miscarriage
about a year prior to this pregnancy.) The chaplain said, “They are doing CPR on both of them – your wife and
your baby. After every possible effort was made, I lost my sweet wife, Amanda and our baby daughter, Madison.
This was like a bad dream that I could not wake up from. Life had changed
instantly. Suddenly I was making funeral arrangements. I did not know what to do or how I could survive it. So
many decisions needed to be made. Madison was placed in my wife’s arms, and they were buried together just as
I had lost them.
Those first few months were difficult. I had to get to know my son. I had been gone
so much of his young life, and now I had to try to be a father and mother to him. Amanda and Dylan had such a strong bond.
They were buddies and did everything together. Watching my son cry for his mother was heart breaking. I could
not replace the void she left in his life. There seemed to be nothing I could do to ease his pain. I comforted
my son by assuring him that his mother was in a better place. Amanda was a Christian and loved the Lord. I tried
to explain what heaven was like as best I could, so that he could be reassured that his mommy was happy there.
The main thing that helped me survive was focusing on what I had instead of what I had
lost. My son needed me to be present in his life. I had been so focused on my loss that at times, I wanted to
shut out the rest of the world. The realization that my son needed me gave me a reason to keep going.
This experience has taught me to value each moment. Everyday is a gift. I
do not make many long term plans but try to live one day at a time. I want to be a good father to Dylan and make sure
he knows that he is loved. I also try to teach him about Jesus. Amanda would want me to help him learn about the
Lord because of the difference He made in her life.
I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but somehow, I was granted permission for
my wife to be buried in Arlington National Cemetery. It is the only tombstone there engraved with two names; Amanda and Madison Emerson. My wife would have been pleased.
© 2009 by Shelley Myrick - All rights reserved
“We must enter the darkness of loss alone, but once there we will
find others with whom we can share life together.”
-Gerald Sittser-
