Remembering Mary Jo

A hero’s mom just might be the real hero

I first knew Mary Jo as a school bus driver. I always knew it was her from her huge smile and wave as we met on the highway. She and her husband Dean lived a few miles from our farm with their three daughters and two sons. They were bringing their kids up with the morals and work ethic of good old-fashioned farm life.

Years went by as their kids grew up and moved off on their own. Then one winter my wife and I hosted a Bible study at our home and invited Dean and Mary Jo. We became acquainted with them on a much deeper level as they asked for prayer for their daughter Ashley, who was serving in the Marines in Iraq. This was during the heat of the battle as American troops were pushing toward Baghdad and the capture of Saddam Hussein. Ashley was in the middle of some of the worst fighting and her parents were very concerned about her. We earnestly prayed for her safety on those cold winter nights in the intimate setting of out basement family room. I acquired a new respect for soldier’s moms.

My wife developed a deep friendship with Mary Jo at that time. She loved Mary Jo’s positive energy that never seemed to run out. I think everyone needs a friend like that. One day after work I found a note for Teri from Mary Jo on the dash of my car. I was working on the house next door to her in-laws and she must have seen my car and thought of us.

Then, one hot summer, Dean hired me to do some drywall finishing in a new sun room in their home. That’s when I got to know Mary Jo and their two youngest boys who were still home. I was amazed at the willingness of her boys to fold their clothes and help with house work. They seemed to really love their mom. One day as I worked on the drywall, a song came on the radio that Mary Jo commented on. “This is my favorite song, I love it!” she exclaimed. The song was titled Arlington by Trace Adkins. “Having a daughter in the war in Iraq gives me a great appreciation for songs like this.”

That same summer Mary Jo started noticing strange symptoms in her body. She fell off a ladder as she painted the sun room. She also had a weird accident with a four wheeler. Then she started having trouble swallowing. As the symptoms got worse, she saw specialists to diagnose the problem. As time went on the tests started pointing to Lou Gehrig’s Disease. But even with this awful diagnosis Mary Jo kept a positive attitude.

A few weeks before she left this earth, we received the horrific phone call that their youngest son, Travis, was killed in a car wreck driving to school on slushy roads. This news seemed too wrong to be true. How could this much tragedy fall on one family? We stood in awe filled silence as Dean wheeled Mary Jo in to their son’s funeral and wondered at her strength. Then, weeks later, Mary Jo slipped away in her sleep to rejoin Travis in Paradise. They had a special bond that even death could only separate for a few days.

So on this day that we somberly remember our fallen soldiers, we also need to remember their moms and dads. They too, sacrificed.