Happy Independence Day

Today I am thinking of Byron, whom we all miss you so much, and my grandfather and uncle, who did not die in action but fought for us, too.

Byron,
I see your photos almost daily and it doesn't seem real sometimes. Your dad mourns and it is so hard seeing him go through this. I've felt loss, too, but no one can know how he feels. There is comfort in knowing that God has a reason for everything--this is not circumstance--and that you are happy in Heaven and we will see you again someday. Take care of my loved ones with you.
Byron, you gave an incredible sacrifice for all of us. Regardless of how anyone feels about this war I remember something so good you told me about the first time you were in Iraq; you told me about seeing three grown men and one of their daughters. They were building a stone wall so the girl was pushing a heavy wheelbarrow full of heavy stones while the three men lazily walked behind. You told the men that the little girl shouldn't be doing all that work while three strong men were being lazy. The men gave her a rest and took the wheelbarrow for at least as long as you could see them. You said the little girl didn't say a word or look at you until they were a little further down the road. Then she quickly turned, smiled, gave you the thumbs up the turned around before any of the men could see. Beyond giving your life, you made a difference in the way that little girl would know men. Women in Iraq are treated so horribly; I hope that good things happen for their women in the future.

My sister-in-law said that in church last Sunday her pastor remarked on the bumper stickers that said God Bless America--we are Blessed. Not only for our riches, but because of the things you gave us. Until we meet again . . . love and thanks,
Angela, Trey & Danielle.

I've heard the words oft times before -
that "Freedom isn't Free".
But that was long before I knew
how they would impact me.

A baby boy I loved so much -
I watched him learn and grow.
He grew into a strong young man,
how brave - I did not know.

Little League and high school band,
the trumpet, movies, friends -
things he enjoyed as years went by -
I hoped it would not end.

But graduation time came near,
now he was nineteen.
"I'm old enough. I'm ready, Mom,
to become the best Marine!"

Then off to Boot Camp far away,
and with the Crucible done -
His Eagle, Globe and Anchor,
he had finally, proudly won.

Standing tall, his face a beam -
a new United States Marine!

I knew that there were dangers.
My fear I tried to hide,
but the sight of him in uniform
filled my heart with pride.

A clear September morning as I saw the buildings fall,
my brave son was list'ning for his Nation's urgent call.
The world had changed in minutes,
for now we were at war.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'm trained for this.
It's what Marines are for."

He left his home and traveled to a desert far away.
On quiet nights, I'd close my eyes
and I could almost hear him say -
"I love you, Mom, and miss you,
but there's a job I have to do.

As a Marine, now it's my turn
to be protecting you."

Sleepless nights of worry, anxiety and fears;
Praying for his safety and crying countless tears.
Afraid to even think the worst -
the knock upon the door -
Knowing that had happened to other Moms before.

Oh, God, then it happened - the worst did come to pass -
In dark of night, the knock did come
and through the front door's glass -
I see them there in coats of blue with
buttons of bright brass.

I could not hear the words they spoke,
I could only cry and scream -
"This can't be true, this isn't real.
Please tell me it's a dream!"

As minutes turned to hours
and the hours into days,
pain and sadness stretched ahead
in such a foggy haze.

I close my eyes and, once again,
I hear his gentle voice."
I'm alright, Mom, and I'm still here.
You know it was my choice.

My friends were hurt, I had to try
to get them out of there.
It is the code of honor
that we Marines all share."

I know he had to do it -
He could not walk away.
I'm grateful for the courage
that he displayed that day.

The sorrow's deep inside me -
So much, it seems I've lost.

But he wants me to remember
that Freedom has a cost.

There is no greater gift, they say,
than to lay down one's life for friends.
I will keep his gift in memory
until my life here ends.

I love you, Son, and thank you,
for your special gift to me -
I will always know
That Freedom isn't Free!

By Janet Aston Norwood, Proud Gold Star Mother ofSgt. Byron Wayne Norwood, KIA Fallujah, Iraq, November 13, 2004