By miahappy…
I know Memorial Day will be recognized on the last Monday of May for most people, but eight years ago, Memorial Day forever became May 26 for me and my family.
That was the day our dear friend, Maj. Mathew E. Schram, was killed in an envoy in Iraq.
He died May 26, 2003 – ironically enough, Memorial Day that year. I’ll never forget getting the call from my mother several days after, telling me he was gone. We’ve known and befriended the Schram family for my entire life. Mat was my sister’s age, and they had gone to school together. Their father was our family dentist, and Mat’s older brother is a very successful agent in my parent’s business – he still works there as a top man today.
I’ve always had a deep respect and admiration for all things military (I don’t think that’s a secret), but the events of those days back in 2003 will live with me forever. As you’d expect, bits and pieces of information came in as to what had happened, and time seemed to stand still as we waited for Mat’s body to be released and transported back to the United States. They’d originally said it could take up to two weeks, but I think all involved were relieved when they managed to bring him back in less than one.
The visitation was packed, a line forming through the entire funeral home, filled with people wanting to extend their condolences and say a final goodbye. It was a closed casket, but I do remember talking with one of the family members who had seen the body and commented that it did not look like him. Then again, once their soul is with God, they rarely do.
The casket and memorial was beautifully dressed; the flag looking so majestic draped over the coffin. It was hard to believe a short time later that same flag would be presented to Mat’s father as a last tribute to one of his sons.
I approached Mat’s father once I’d said my prayers for Mat. Doc, as we affectionately call him, had been our dentist until his retirement a short time before. After a hug and a failed attempt at hiding tears, I struggled for words. What do you say in a moment such as that? I said the first thing that came to my mind. “You must be very proud.”
His response will stay with me forever. “I always was.”
The funeral was sad, as was to be expected, but there was an incredible feeling of pride as well. The ceremony, the tributes, the honor; it all stays with me many years later. When the governor of the state of Wisconsin walked into the church and approached Mat’s family, many of us were shaking our heads because it was nothing more than a photo op for him. It was my first lesson in keeping my mouth shut (you all know how difficult that is for me) out of respect for the family, but I’ll never have respect for any politician who uses such a moment for their personal gain. I’ll keep the rest of my political opinions to myself.
Mat’s mother had passed several years before he did, and there was somewhat of a comforting feeling knowing he was once again with her. As a new mother myself at the time, my first child was only six months old, I walked in and out of the church several times during the funeral mass trying to keep him calm. In hindsight, I’m glad I had that opportunity because there were a multitude of displays put together by Mat’s family in the church’s entryway. There were photos and letters exchanged during his time in Iraq and elsewhere that gave a bigger insight into Mat’s beliefs and his love of his job. If my little guy hadn’t been fussy, I may not have had the opportunity to view and read all those papers.
The funeral procession from the church to the cemetery was incredible. There had to have been fifty cars at least, and that estimate is probably low. The trip wasn’t more than 5 miles or so, but it’s amazing the way I viewed everything just a bit differently as we rode. All the people we passed; all I could think of was, “This man died for you…” and they probably never even thought of it.
As we turned into the cemetery, there was a lone man standing across the street. He was dressed in civilian clothes, but wore some sort of hat (I wish I had gotten a closer look) as if he was part of an auxiliary or something. The day was cold and rainy (much as it is today in WI), but there he was standing at full attention, saluting the procession as we passed. I can only hope Mat’s family took as much comfort from that simple gesture as I did.
The burial was short, but beautiful. Watching the men in full military dress saluting, folding, and presenting the flag to Doc was incredible to witness. I will never know what that man said to Mat’s father when he knelt down beside him and whispered in his ear, but I hope Doc took comfort in whatever it was. There was a 21 gun salute, and after Taps was played, I don’t believe there was a dry eye left in the crowd. If there was, that person has no heart.
I still think of Mat often, just about every time I see anything about troops being injured/killed or deployments being sent out. I think I take a greater comfort in the beautiful reunions they play on T.V., parents coming home to surprise their kids after being away for so long, because that’s one less person who has to suffer the loss Mat’s family had to.
The greater comfort to them, however, is they know how much Mat loved Army life, and how much he loved serving his country. He died a true hero, and I vow never to forget that.
If you’d like to know more about Mat and what actually happened that day in 2003, this will tell you the full story. http://www.blackfive.net/main/2004/05/one_year.html
So as we all have our day off this weekend and gather for parades, barbecues, or just stick around the house to catch up on things, I hope all of us will give more than one thought to what the day really means. It is Memorial Day, not the kick off to the summer as many consider it, but a day to reflect on the men and women who have fought and died for our freedom throughout the course of history. And, do Mat a favor; remind someone else of that fact, too. Not enough people in our country remember.
RIP Mat, and thank you.
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