thedrifter
01-03-07, 07:33 AM
Cost of war: grief beyond measure
Death of son in Iraq leaves painful void in family
George Watson, Staff Writer
San Bernardino County Sun
Article Launched:01/03/2007 12:00:00 AM PST
FONTANA - In darkness, a father and mother woke to their own silent tears.
The father held the mother in their bed and he whispered a few sweet words. He sat up, his feet resting on the floor of their two-story Fontana home. He spoke of his gratitude for having such a wonderful, loving and brave son.
And then, two hours before the sun rose Tuesday, he pushed himself out of bed. He had to ready himself for something every parent loathes and fears: his son's funeral.
Fernando S. Tamayo, a 19-year-old lance corporal in the Marines, was slain Dec. 21 when a roadside bomb exploded next to the Humvee he drove in Iraq.
"I tell people our pain is too deep because we lost something bigger than we can take," said his father, Mario Tamayo Sr.
Since learning the news of their son's demise just hours before they were to watch another son's wedding ceremony in Mexico, the Tamayos have sought to survive this ordeal.
Family and friends have rallied around them. Neighbors drop off piles of food. Marines call to offer help.
The Tamayos find solace in kind words, the hero-like treatment their dead son received from the military and law enforcement personnel, and knowing that their boy died doing what he craved - serving his country.
"I know our family will never be the same," said the Marine's sister, Adriana Zamayoa, 33. "But I know by keeping his memory alive, we will be better people for our community, for our children, for our nephews and our nieces."
The Tamayo home is full of memories to be sparked. Tamayo Sr.'s favorite place to eat, a center island in the kitchen, has been transformed into a shrine of pictures, Fernando Tamayo's baby bib and his white baptism outfit that his parents had kept for the time that he married and had a child.
Photos adorn most every wall. Military memorabilia fills his bedroom, and camouflaged netting covers a window. A photocopy of his final letter to his girlfriend rests in a china cabinet. Atop that is a Father's Day card he made at age 7.
On Tuesday morning, family filled the home, but a quiet stillness pervaded the place. Fernando Tamayo's mother, Martha, stayed upstairs getting dressed in black. Tamayo Sr. watered plants out front.
He contemplated what awaited his family before the 2 p.m. funeral at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Covina.
"It's the last time we can see his body," Tamayo Sr. lamented.
Zamayoa added, "It's the last time to say goodbye."
The Tamayos are thankful that their son's broken body was at least able to be viewed in an open casket.
The other three Marines who died in the same attack were less fortunate, Tamayo Sr. said.
Tamayo Sr. thought for a moment, and then shared a recent discussion he had with his wife. His eyes glistened as he spoke.
"We say to God, `Thank you for letting us be parents to Fernando,"' he said.
Tamayo Sr. doesn't know where these coming weeks will take his family. He and his wife need each other greatly. On this morning, she wept often and at one point, just sat and sobbed as her husband held her shuddering body.
He knows he has to return to his hometown in Mexico, a village of 6,000 people near Guadalajara. Tamayo Sr. and his wife left their sport utility vehicle there, having flown out on the first flight home once they heard that men in military uniforms kept returning, knocking on their front door in Fontana.
The main task in the next few days will be to go back to the mortuary and take their son's remains home. The family decided to cremate Fernando because they have no real ties to the area, and if they move, burying him here would seem like abandoning him.
Somewhere down the road of life, the Tamayos plan to find the proper place for their son. For now, though, they just aren't ready to let him go.
Contact writer George Watson at (909) 386-3884 or via e-mail at george.watson@ sbsun.com.
Ellie
Death of son in Iraq leaves painful void in family
George Watson, Staff Writer
San Bernardino County Sun
Article Launched:01/03/2007 12:00:00 AM PST
FONTANA - In darkness, a father and mother woke to their own silent tears.
The father held the mother in their bed and he whispered a few sweet words. He sat up, his feet resting on the floor of their two-story Fontana home. He spoke of his gratitude for having such a wonderful, loving and brave son.
And then, two hours before the sun rose Tuesday, he pushed himself out of bed. He had to ready himself for something every parent loathes and fears: his son's funeral.
Fernando S. Tamayo, a 19-year-old lance corporal in the Marines, was slain Dec. 21 when a roadside bomb exploded next to the Humvee he drove in Iraq.
"I tell people our pain is too deep because we lost something bigger than we can take," said his father, Mario Tamayo Sr.
Since learning the news of their son's demise just hours before they were to watch another son's wedding ceremony in Mexico, the Tamayos have sought to survive this ordeal.
Family and friends have rallied around them. Neighbors drop off piles of food. Marines call to offer help.
The Tamayos find solace in kind words, the hero-like treatment their dead son received from the military and law enforcement personnel, and knowing that their boy died doing what he craved - serving his country.
"I know our family will never be the same," said the Marine's sister, Adriana Zamayoa, 33. "But I know by keeping his memory alive, we will be better people for our community, for our children, for our nephews and our nieces."
The Tamayo home is full of memories to be sparked. Tamayo Sr.'s favorite place to eat, a center island in the kitchen, has been transformed into a shrine of pictures, Fernando Tamayo's baby bib and his white baptism outfit that his parents had kept for the time that he married and had a child.
Photos adorn most every wall. Military memorabilia fills his bedroom, and camouflaged netting covers a window. A photocopy of his final letter to his girlfriend rests in a china cabinet. Atop that is a Father's Day card he made at age 7.
On Tuesday morning, family filled the home, but a quiet stillness pervaded the place. Fernando Tamayo's mother, Martha, stayed upstairs getting dressed in black. Tamayo Sr. watered plants out front.
He contemplated what awaited his family before the 2 p.m. funeral at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Covina.
"It's the last time we can see his body," Tamayo Sr. lamented.
Zamayoa added, "It's the last time to say goodbye."
The Tamayos are thankful that their son's broken body was at least able to be viewed in an open casket.
The other three Marines who died in the same attack were less fortunate, Tamayo Sr. said.
Tamayo Sr. thought for a moment, and then shared a recent discussion he had with his wife. His eyes glistened as he spoke.
"We say to God, `Thank you for letting us be parents to Fernando,"' he said.
Tamayo Sr. doesn't know where these coming weeks will take his family. He and his wife need each other greatly. On this morning, she wept often and at one point, just sat and sobbed as her husband held her shuddering body.
He knows he has to return to his hometown in Mexico, a village of 6,000 people near Guadalajara. Tamayo Sr. and his wife left their sport utility vehicle there, having flown out on the first flight home once they heard that men in military uniforms kept returning, knocking on their front door in Fontana.
The main task in the next few days will be to go back to the mortuary and take their son's remains home. The family decided to cremate Fernando because they have no real ties to the area, and if they move, burying him here would seem like abandoning him.
Somewhere down the road of life, the Tamayos plan to find the proper place for their son. For now, though, they just aren't ready to let him go.
Contact writer George Watson at (909) 386-3884 or via e-mail at george.watson@ sbsun.com.
Ellie