After 69 years.. Welcome Home!!

As a child I remember listening to my grandma talk about her Uncle Vernal. I can’t remember all the details of everything she said, but the thing I remember most was the fact that he flew a plane in WWII and that he never came home. As a young girl I didn’t quite get this concept, but as I got older I began to understand more when she would talk about him. I knew he was a young man that was on a bombing mission to Japan and that his plane went down. They couldn’t tell us if it went down over the ocean or into the jungle. The family believed that he went into the ocean and would never be found again.  As a child this just didn’t seem right to me. I remember always asking my Grandma if he could be found, if they could search the ocean? If there was something anyone could do? She talked of her Uncle and how well liked he was by everyone. “Everyone’s favorite.” She said the last time she saw him he was flying over Lindon when she was just a little girl, she was with her mom and Vernal tipped his wings. This was his way of saying hello. She eagerly waved "hi" back to him. When my grandma started having children of her own she was asked by her grandma (Vernal’s mother) to name her son after Vernal, as he would never have a namesake of his own. She was honored to do so.



The kids reading the last letter he wrote home for
Fox13 News.



As an adult I think back now on the stories and the legacy that was passed on through each generation and I am filled with wonder that such a man can impact so many people he never got to meet. I mean he is a great, great, great uncle to me and I can see how loved he was, even now, and still loved today. How can this one person still continue to impact us today? It has been 69 years since he went missing. March 12, 1944. Shortly before he went missing he wrote a letter home. Talking about how lonely it is, how the night sky is so deceiving with the war going on. In other letters, he spoke of the tent he called home and asked for everyone to write to him. In his words, “Letters are damn welcome.” I couldn’t imagine being away from home, off to war fighting for our freedom. I can bet that any tidbit of information from home was like Christmas for a young child.



Dog tags found in his tent and sent home.



Not long ago, I remember getting the information that they found his plane and a bone. They ran a DNA test against that of my aunt Elaine and it matched. How amazing is that? After so long HE HAD BEEN FOUND. Not in the ocean, but in the jungles of New Guinea. WOW! They found a leg bone near the plane that crashed, one bone, in the jungle and it was him. Crews were able to search around the wreckage and find more remains. They have not been able to search inside the plane due to a bomb still active. They hope in time they can deactivate the bomb and do some more searching. His co-pilot, gunner, Roy Davis is still missing in action. I pray that they can soon locate his remains and give his family the peace and closure we were able to receive.





Yesterday my family and I were privileged to welcome Uncle Vernal home. I cannot even begin to share with you the feelings that overwhelmed me as I watched the events unfold. We were shuttled out onto the runway. As we looked behind us we noticed the police escort. As we got off the bus and stood by watching the plane taxi toward the gate it too was given a police escort. There were fire trucks presenting a water canon over the plane as it came through. We were then shuttled to the gate where we saw many strangers watching at the windows, the airport employees standing with their hats off and hands over their hearts, military, retired and active saluting. Watching as a casket draped in an American Flag as it was carried by the honor guard into a waiting hearse. The feeling of knowing he is finally home, knowing that this was an event that I will not ever forget. Being able to share this with my own children, watching them be interviewed by news crews about the importance of what was going on; their understanding of what was unfolding. Having this overwhelming feeling that Uncle Vernal was there holding Jayden and watching us welcome his body home. The feelings were incredible, it was so very powerful. I am so thankful to those that worked hard to get him home. To those that didn’t accept the fact that he crashed into the ocean and wouldn’t give up.

In the windows you can see the strangers standing watching
them carry him from the plane.

There was a police escort from the airport to Springville where he will be laid to rest on Saturday with full Military Honors. As we were driving through Springville many people pulled over, got out of their cars and placed their hands on their hearts or saluted. Many people were standing on the side of the road waving flags and waving hello as we drove by. The kids sat and watched and asked why they were doing that. I was so proud to tell them that they were welcoming him home too. They were sharing with us in any way they could. That this hero finally has a resting place his family can visit him. It was such an amazing experience; I am blown away at the fact that there is still humanity in this world. I was telling my husband just recently how I have been disappointed in how people treat others, but yesterday, I saw hope and goodness in strangers. Best of all I was able to share it with my family, my children, we were able to witness an amazing event. A once in a lifetime event and witness the respect that one person can receive by hundreds that didn’t personally know him. That is the legacy I would love to be able to leave. That is the legacy that is worth leaving.

WELCOME HOME UNCLE VERNAL! THANK YOU FOR FIGHTING FOR OUR FREEDOM AND GIVING THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE! I LOVE YOU!!

Missing you both!

Words can’t describe exactly what I am feeling and wanting to say. I have noticed that expressing myself and my true feelings has become harder and harder.  I try to share my thoughts and feelings, but it doesn’t feel like I share what I am truly feeling deep down. Sometimes I hold back because people don't know how to handle the raw truth other times expressing such raw pain isn't even possible. If I could express myself clearly and accurately what would I say, how would others react? A hole in the heart doesn’t fill in, it is always there, but you learn to live around it. There will always be moments that come up and you are thrust into the hole again feeling the pain.

I’ve been working on an altered book, that is supposed to help express, in art, what I am truly feeling. We will see how that goes. I have had some help in realizing that with everything going on around me and my family I need to be the “Eye of the storm.” Do what I can to stay calm and keep peace within myself so that I can keep stability and calmness within my family, while the world, and things we cannot control, come through like tornados and toss us all around like rag dolls.  

8 years ago today, my sweet little niece left this earth. It was sudden and unexpected; an accident that forever changed our family. At 20 months old this sweet spirit was gone. No more laughter, and cute animal sounds. No more hearing her talk. I have said it before and I will say it again. Never getting the chance to hear her say my name is a huge regret I have. I was lucky enough at one point to dream of her a couple years back on my birthday. I heard her say my name in my dream, but being that it has been several years I don’t remember how it sounded. I remember her trying to say Teletubbies, butterfly or mimic all the animal sounds she could and laughing whenever she would “neigh” like a horse. I watch my sister (8) and daughter (10) who are best friends and love to play with each other and think that they are missing the third musketeer. I wonder if the three of them would be inseparable, just as the two are and being angry that she isn’t here, that we don’t get to know for sure. My sister and daughter talk about Alexis all the time, they ask about her constantly. I am so very thankful that they think of her as often as we do, especially since they never got the chance to know her while she was alive, but only through the memories the rest of us have. It just goes to show we can keep those we love alive through each of us.  

I remember the day I got the call very well. I remember going to the store and forgetting my cell phone at home. I remember thinking no big deal no one calls me anyway. I remember going home and having many missed calls and messages from my family and knowing something was wrong. I remember driving like crazy to get up to Primary Children’s Hospital. I remember the next 12 hours felt like an eternity and hurting and crying and being angry and wondering why. I felt like I lost more than a niece. She was a huge part of my life at the time. I remember my pain and feeling so horrible for my brother and his girlfriend. Knowing that their pain was worse than mine.  Even now, 8 years later I still remember her and that time like it was yesterday. Like 8 years hasn’t passed like she is frozen in time as that vibrant toddler so full of life, laughter and happiness.

I never thought I too would lose a child. I feel horrible in saying it, but I figured I experienced the loss of a child, loved one, once I wouldn’t have to go through it again. I lost a niece I could never lose a child. I knew what loss was so I felt invisible or untouchable to think it would happen to me. But it did. I didn’t get the memories with my own child that I got with Alexis. I wish like crazy that I got more memoreies of both of them. I feel like I am trying to watch a DVD, but instead of being able to push play I only get the menu options on repeat over and over again. Knowing there was an entire movie at my fingertips that will never be played out. I wish I could hear my own son make the animal sounds, call me mom, give me hugs. I wish I got the ability to write down his first tooth and haircut in his baby book. I wish that I got a photograph of his first smile, first steps. I wish I could hear his giggle, his cry. Instead I see an empty baby book. I remember a birth where the only sound was my husband and I crying holding our son praying for a miracle. I have photographs of his casket and the cemetery not of his crib and his nursery. I do have memories and photos of my son that I cherish daily and am thankful to have, but again they are limited and not nearly enough.

I remember finding out I was pregnant then going to the doctor and he told me my due date was 9/23/2013. My first thought was absolutely not. I will hold that baby in until the 24^th if I have to. But I will not give birth on the day Alexis died. I regret those thoughts. I would be more than happy to be in labor right now thinking of Alexis but being blessed with my own child. When I went back to the doctor he moved my date to 9/25/2013. I was happier then, but still not thrilled that it was so close to when Alexis died. Little did I know that things weren’t going to work out for me at all. Instead of going into labor and giving birth to a full term healthy baby boy in September, I gave birth to a tiny little boy to premature to live longer than 5 minutes in this world. I wish this day was a better one, I wish I was giving birth to my son. I wish this day held better memories, but instead, it is not just the day that is hard to get through but it is now the entire week. It is a week of reminders of what should have been but what will NEVER be.

Alexis and Jayden- I love you both like crazy. I miss you more than words could say. I wish you were both still here with me creating more memories for me to cherish. I will take the few memories I do have and I will continue to share them with others so that they will know you through me. I wish I could see you playing together here on earth with your cousins, aunt and siblings. I know you two are playing together in heaven watching over us. Some days that brings more comfort than others.  Children are not supposed to go before their parents. Sadly it happens more often than any of us could think. I love you both and can’t wait to give you great big hugs and kisses when I get the chance to see you again.