2 years..and I Still Miss You Pokey

It’s been two years since we lost our Pokey.  I don’t care what anyone says about time healing or it gets better in time, fact is it doesn’t. If anything it gets harder.  As I watch his friends get married and start families I am happy for them but I mourn one more thing my son will never get to do. As life goes on in our family and we all live this new normal I want him here to share moments.  Moments like his sister going to winter formal. His brother winning College track championships. And seeing that his youngest brother is starting to read. All the Big moments and milestones, but also the little ones, like when I try a new recipe and wonder if he would like it.

I can’t help but go back to the conversations we had in the days before he was killed.  Mostly I remember how tired he was. I remember him telling me about a father and son who had been hit by and EFP by the “soulless bastards”. He was so upset by that.  “They were just going to work mom. No one deserves what happened to them for just going to work. That kid was no more than 12.”  He never said but I think he knew them from patrolling in the town.  The other guys won’t talk about that incident except to say it was bad.. really bad.  Not sure why that tale sticks with me. Maybe because it was so similar to what happened to Micheal. Maybe because that was the first time I had heard of an EFP and knew it was something he feared.  Maybe because I could hear his frustration with humanity when he talked about it.  He was too young to see such ugliness.  In fact I told him that.  He told me “No one was old enough to have to see this shit.”

When I find myself in those memories I try to put them away and focus on times when he was home and being so very Pokey. Setting off fireworks in the backyard the day we moved into this house. I told him if the cops showed up he was answering the door… sure enough the cops were called by one of our new neighbors. And I laughed as I told him the door was for him. The little shit talked his way out of the ticket. He told them he was visiting from Tennessee and didn’t know it was illegal to set off fireworks and stopped when I told him. He had lived here most of his life but he forgot that part when talking to the cops.  I suppose that he still had on his ACU pants and dogtags on helped.  And of course his charming irresistible grin. His smile made you want to become his best friend instantly.  I miss that smile.

hugging pokey

It’s been two years since you were taken from us Micheal and I still miss you.

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7 Responses to 2 years..and I Still Miss You Pokey

  1. Delta Whiskey February 24, 2010 at 9:09 am #

    Oh honey. I know there is nothing I can say to make any of this better, just know I’m here for you. I adore you, you raised such a handsome, wonderful young man… it’s not fair. It’s just not fair. If I could, I would just come and hold on to you as tightly as I could. Love you girl.

  2. Annie February 24, 2010 at 9:10 am #


  3. USMCWIFE8999 February 24, 2010 at 9:26 am #

    Hi Knottie
    I have no idea how you feel. Sometimes in my worse dreams I think I may glimpse it, at the thought of losing my son, but I always wake up. You and your family have to live in this, with this and we on the outside can say all the cliche things, and although they are cliche, we do mean them. Not sure how much that counts. I asked my dad once how he got over it when my little sister was killed by a drunk driver and he told me what you said, you never do. He said it becomes part of you, in every cell of your body and you walk through your life with your DNA forever changed.
    I didn’t know Pokey before he died, but since meeting you I have a sense of the young man he was. I am so proud of how you look after your soldier sons, and how you care so deeply for them and all the troops. Today I will speak his name, and will be thinking about you and your husband and children and remembering the sacrifice your son made for us.
    Hugs friend …

  4. Kanani February 24, 2010 at 10:14 am #

    He was so overwhelmed, it sounds, and understandably so. War is a horrible, violent, loud, irrational thing. And he was right –no one is ever old enough to see that stuff. It must have been equally hard for you to hear these things, but I’m glad you were there to listen to him and I’m sure he was glad to be able to get it off his chest. I’m so grateful that you’re here writing and sharing. I think you touch a lot of people with your recollections and sharing about your son. You’ll always miss him, that’s for sure. I can’t imagine that ever going away. He was, after all, a part of you, his siblings, aunts, uncles and friend. Everyone he touched is richer for knowing and loving him, sadder for having him taken. Fortunately, he’ll always remain part of this great circle of life.

  5. Shikki February 24, 2010 at 11:55 am #

    Even at his young age, he knew more about the world and how it functioned than many do in their whole lifetime. Losing such a fine charming gentleman is a tragedy but even to this day he has been teaching us how to live and how to learn. I’m keeping you and your family in my thoughts. And just know what a great mentor, friend and mother-figure you are to many, many of us.

  6. Karen [Milhealth] February 24, 2010 at 12:07 pm #

    My dear friend, I cried, laughed, smiled, and am crying as I write this. …thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings today about your son Pokey. My son has gone and returned from Afghanistan and Iraq four times now. Each time he’s returned, I have felt such joy and relief matched equally with feelings of guilt and sorrow because I know each time, I have been one of the lucky ones. I also know each time, other really good people, moms like you and others– were not. I cannot even begin to imagine how that must be. March 5th is the anniversary-(2007,Samarra Iraq), that day we lost seven brave young men like your son. Two of those seven sons of very dear friends. Their lives were taken by a double-timed IED, planted by a ruthless enemy who has no soul that preys on our kid’s valor and loyalty knowing full well they will always try to save the lives of others even if it means sacrificing their own. Every day, I stop and take a moment to honor the memories of such fine men (and women), and pray for their families. Today, I especially will be thinking about you, your family… and your son. I know it cannot be the same, but you always have your son’s smile, wit, bravery, and love in a special place in your heart – a place only and just for him. God Bless you. <> Karen

  7. Fozzy February 24, 2010 at 5:20 pm #

    Wow. that song really kicks ya in the guts..

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