In this week's blog I would like to take you back to April of 2003. Probably the most depressing April of my life. I say that because April of this year was pretty bad too, I will get to that later. This blog is really about life, death and how I am overcoming grief.

In April of 2003 I watched my mom and dad cry. My world came crashing down and my big brother, Scott, was gone. He was killed in a Blackhawk helicopter crash on April 2nd in Iraq. It was a completely random crash, they were not shot down. A short description: they were flying at night, behind another Blackhawk. They flew out over a lake on a moonless night. From what the investigation revealed the pilot was disoriented with stars above him and stars below him. Their job was to make a turn at a certain point, flying at a low altitude to stay out of enemy range, the pilot of this Blackhawk made the turn too low and hit a small island on the lake. That's really all the detail I want to go into on this blog, this post is not about the crash itself, but about the days and years following the crash. If you are interested in learning more I will tell you one day. I have seen the pictures of the crash site and knowing about g-force I can say that all six men in that helicopter died on impact or maybe before. No one suffered and they did not know it was happening.

Two weeks after the crash we were able to have the funeral. Scott and I grew up in Sweetwater, Texas. You know, the area of West Texas famous for Friday Night Lights. Nothing beats a West Texas high school football game. I remember walking into the funeral home unaware of what to expect.

Rounding a corner from the hallway into the chapel I saw the flag draped coffin. The breath left my body. I'm not sure how I did it but I made it down the isle between the pews to come face to face with my worst fear since Scott had joined the Army. What you need to know about my brother is that he was a career Army guy. He joined the army in 1990 with one goal in mind. To become a helicopter pilot. He never gave up on that dream and finally after applying several times through his career he was finally given his wish. He spent the year of 2002 in Korea training. He, of course being Mr. Popular back home, was head of the class and chose to fly the blackhawk.

I was able to see him that Christmas, he was so excited about going over. He was telling us about all the cool things the Blackhawk could do. His eyes lit up as he explained different maneuvers. Then like any good brother he held me down and farted in my face.

Scott and I were never that close, our nine year age difference was a big gap. As I was becoming "cool" enough to hang out with he was leaving for the Army. When he was stationed close to home I was too much of a cranky teen to go visit him with my parents, I had my own thing going on. I always told myself I could see him later.

We were able to have the funeral service at out high school football field, where Scott had briefly played football and I marched in the band years before. It was an amazing site. The town had turned out in full force. The high school choir was there, as was the football team. I remember turning to the crowd and seeing what had to be over 400 people. It was breath taking.

Two days after Scott's funeral my grandmother died, I was pretty close to her. She was in bad health so it wasn't a big shock, in fact she had no idea Scott had passed. A couple of years later my grandfather died. Both of these grandparents were my mom's parents. I was extremely close to my grandfather, a retired Air Force man, it was like losing Scott all over again. You know they say that when someone close to you dies you can feel it. I felt his death. In fact I woke up at 2 am with this weird feeling in my chest. Almost a panic attack kind of feeling.

Maybe a year or two after that my dad's mother died. I was never that close to her as she lived in another area of Texas. I do have fond memories of her though. She was just a small town farm girl who never learned to read or write. I remember one summer she stayed with us and killed a rattlesnake with a water hose. Yes, we have those in West Texas, too.

All of this brings me to this year and the second worst April of my life. This past April I lost my mom. A heart attack.

Until just recently I have been a slug. No direction, no goal. Going to work day in and day out, miserable. Always wanting to be somewhere else. Letting the death and bad stuff weigh me down. I have been in and out of financial difficulty for a while. When things look good it seems the bad is waiting right around the corner. I haven't been the most positive person. Of course I hold it all in too until i snap.

I turned 30 this year, in Vegas, since turning 30 things are turning around. I finished my first NaNoWriMo. My writing has improved tremendously. I am making long term goals like planning vacations (LA this summer I hope) and getting something published. I feel like I have been more productive in the last few months than i have in my whole life.

I have a new goal as well. I want to start an organization to help people in my position. Creative types who have lost a family member in Iraq or Afghanistan who need a creative outlet. You have no idea how hard it to talk about losing family to this war. If you mention it every one wants to comment on how we shouldn’t be there or want to talk politics. It gets ugly fast, most people I talk to about it forget that I have lost someone and the conversation is about that not their political beliefs. My brother wanted to be there. That's all I have to say on that front.

Ok back to my organization, got a little sidetracked. The goal is to give family members a way to express their selves without being lectured. Writing has helped me get through it, maybe I can inspire other to follow in a creative way. It's a broad area and I am still refining my idea, but you get the point. So if anybody has any tips to help me find funding or how I can do this please tell me.

I am open to talking about my brother any day of the week so e-mail me at lizjamar@lizardjam.com. But remember any political outbursts on email or my comments sections will be deleted. I am hear to help people, not start a debate. That’s what the local media is for.

Until next week my friends, be well!

P.S. If you want you can read the following essay I wrote for an writing class, it's an intersting little ditty about the actual funeral and the first headstone for Scott's grave. My brother did enjoy his practical jokes...






I knew this day would come, I never dreamed it would be this soon.