Friday, November 12, 2010



COUSIN DANIEL MARMON, RIP

Tragically, last month, Vanessa's big cousin Daniel Marmon slid off the road on his motorcycle and died. He was 28 years old and a veteran of the Iraqi War.



Daniel was Jack's sister Judi's son, and the brother to Sam and Matthew, and baby Jeremy, who was still-born. Daniel was born to his parents after Jeremy died, and was surely an answer to prayers from Day 1. He and little brother Matthew - red-headed billy goats - were affectionately called The Road Runners when they were zipping around creating mayhem as children.

We were able to make the trek to Seattle for Daniel's memorial service, to see Judi and the whole family and meet Daniel's friends, mostly soldiers, since he joined the Army in 2001 at the age of 19. After his church memorial service he had a military service. Keenan and Jack attended the military service, with a formal escort to base for family only. Jack described the military service this way:



The Seargent called to the soldiers, then began calling roll. He'd say, Anderson! and someone would answer Here! After calling a few names, he called Marmon! and no one responded. He called a second time, Marmon! then a third time, Marmon! Then, outside, you could hear the guns fire off five times for him. Then someone played Taps. According to custom, Daniel's boots, helmet and gun were set up together up front on a table. As soldiers filed by to pay their respects, they would touch the boots or the helment, many would place a special medal down as a sign of respect. Jack said it was very moving, to have people file by silently, then hear someone slap down their medal.

I cry now as I think about it.

The night we got the call that Daniel had passed, I burst into uncontrollable tears. Vanessa had asked me if I ever cry "for real." Upon seeing me weep over Daniel's passing, she said:

"Daniel died and has gone to heaven? Why are you crying? Mama, Daniel can see God. Don't cry." Of course I explained I was sad because I can't give Daniel a hug or have a conversation with him anymore. And then at bed time, "Mama, there are lots of people in heaven. Daniel isn't lonely. He won't be lonely in heaven."




Love you, Daniel.