"Every time I turned on the news, I had to face the truth that
my son was in training to go to war."
Date: Friday, October 1, 2004
I am going to be leaving headquarters and joining one of
the teams tomorrow. I don’t know how that will affect my
ability to communicate. I do know it will delay me getting
mail. I’ll talk to you soon.
“We have four levels, ma’am, from Not Injured to
Not Seriously Injured to Seriously Injured and then Very
Seriously Injured, as your son is listed.”
Each day he grew a little stronger, and the periods
when he was awake also grew. So did the amount of
time when he was actively conscious of, and responding
to, his surroundings.
But he said, “Yup, I died, and I met God.” He nodded
firmly. “And he touched my hand, and it was like,
whoa . . . me and God!” I stopped walking and moved
around so I could look at Matthew’s face. His eyes were
wide with wonderment at what he was remembering . . .
Because he can’t remember.
So that others won’t forget.
And with the hope that it might help another ordinary family
facing extraordinary circumstances.