I got home late Friday afternoon….just in time to unpack and head to Good Friday services with Lily. I then made cookies and went to bed so we could go to Kansas City early on Saturday morning.

Lily had her first college visit for herself on Saturday at Kansas City Art Institute. She had attended at least two at Creighton University when her brother, Tim, was considering attending there. But this was the first one just for her. I have to say, going to a fine arts college visit is a bit different than a state school. First off…it was really small…completely focused on art and was the size of a city block. No sports teams. It sounds like a very interesting school. Lily seemed to like it. We have others to look at still, but this was a good start. She would have Joe’s group of friends to look out after her and her sister-in-law, Michelle, right there close by. I know she originally wanted to reach out to this school because Joe would be right there, so it is hard for all of us to know that she won’t have him just a short drive away if she needs anything. The trip was a success though, and we were able to tour most buildings and get a good feel for how her college life would be if she chooses to attend there and they choose her.

We then went to see Michelle….because we missed her and because it was her birthday. We took her out to lunch and caught up on some of the day-to-day things that fall through with texting. Tim gave us a timely call and he was able to be with us over the phone as we went out to lunch with her. She is such a great woman…I treasure her as one of my own children, and have for years. It pains me she is having to go through this tragedy and that Joe isn’t physically by her side anymore. I know she misses him like crazy…just like we all do…but in a much different way. She is having to be way more stronger than anyone should have to be, and it makes me so proud of her yet breaks my momma’s heart all in the same breath. It was nice to be able to hug her, cry with her, and shower her with a few gifts on her special day which she didn’t really want to celebrate.

After lunch, we went to Olathe Fire Station #1….where Joe worked most of his shifts. His crew was on today, so I wanted to bring by some cookies and tell them hello. I was kind of nervous going in there unannounced and taking Michelle with us. We were welcomed with open arms (cookies or not – it would have been the same). We stood there and talked to Joe’s good work friends….his fire fighting brothers. We helped go through some of the names of people who had ordered memorial t-shirts for Joe…and then they discussed where the money made would go…what charity in Joe’s name. Michelle has some good ideas on that. I picked up a LOT of t-shirts and will start packaging them up and mailing them this week. They also showed me a sticker they had made and put on their fire truck, on the window where Joe would have usually sat on calls. It says RFB 446 on it… Remember our Fallen Brother (446 was his badge number). It meant a lot to see that. I left there feeling happy to see these great guys….yet so, so sad that Joe didn’t get to spend more time with them. Joe was really good about surrounding himself with good people, and the Olathe Fire Department definitely counted. They were so wonderful about including him so quickly (okay, he had a way of charming his way into people’s hearts pretty quickly). I feel bad they didn’t get years to spend with him. I feel bad he didn’t get years to spend with them. All I know is they have been so wonderful to us and to Michelle. I am confident that whenever those guys go on a call, Joe is riding with them on the wind…there to protect his brothers, if only in spirit.

For those of you not from our area, KC is a little over 3 hours from our house in Omaha. So we left early yesterday…we got to see a spectacular sunrise. We also got to see a spectacular sunset on our drive home. I have to admit I was a little melancholy on the drive home. Rich and Lily slept while I drove and listened to mindless chatter and music on the radio. Of course I was thinking of Joe…missing him. For a good majority of the drive, I had a small section of a rainbow reflecting in a cloud right in front of me….like for 2 hours of the drive. I would like to think that was Joe just showing me a little love on the way home. When we got home, our front storm door had been painted by LuAnn and Jeff Anglo….friends from our church for Easter. What a wonderful and pleasant surprise!

I have been playing catch up for today…trying to get back on schedule with laundry, bookkeeping at work, and life at home. No Easter photos this year. It was hard enough getting through the Mass this morning. We actually had snow flurries for several hours late morning into this afternoon. Crazy for so late in the year. Although we are still heartbroken this Easter and everything is just still too raw for celebrations, I take peace in knowing that Joe celebrates Easter everyday. Wishing all of you a very Blessed Easter season.

Last Friday I started my drive down to Houston, Texas, to see my parents and my brother and his family. It was a nice drive. I spent the solitude listening to audiobooks….’80’s music….and some of it in silence, so I could talk to my Joe. It helps to have some alone time to just talk with him.

I can think that we all agree that Joe was taken from us way too early in his life. He had a lifetime of love ahead of him with Michelle, and he had a promising career with the Olathe Fire Department. He loved being a fire fighter. The last call he went on was a hard one… there were fatalities in a fire and even though it was a tough call, he was still gung-ho about moving forward to do whatever he could with his brothers at OFD.

One of the firefighters and friends from the fire department had some memorial badge stickers made for Joe. Lily came home from the celebration of life with one….I hadn’t seen them. She said a firefighter gave it to her. I started seeing postings of the fire department brotherhood and the stickers on their gear. I asked if I could get some stickers and I was told they were all gone….but they would order more and send me some. I got them last week. I sent a couple to my Tim in California. I also brought one for my brother, Craig, who is a LT in the Cy-Fair Fire Department here in Texas. He put it on his helmet. What an honor. The fire department has been so supportive of us and especially Michelle. The brotherhood is very strong. I am overwhelmed at how wonderful they have been. Thank you, Michael DeVaul, from the NKCFD, for the memorial stickers for my Joe. Here are some photos….

It has been a month. One month today…right about this very moment in fact, that Joe was taken from us. Crazy enough, all the sirens in Omaha just went off…it is a scheduled thing, but it was just weird coincidence for this one moment in time. We had a group of Joe’s friends over for dinner on Monday night. They actually made dinner and we supplied the kitchen and the house. It was nice to have some people who love Joe as much as we do join us for a meal and then sit and talk. We also video called Michelle, who had Zac and Megan there. Since everyone knew each other, it was good for everyone to support each other, albeit awkwardly, over the miles that separate all. Rich had breakfast this morning with a friend of his who lost his daughter in a car accident several years ago. He said it must have been a sight to see two big, grown men crying over their breakfast at the Farmhouse Cafe. I am so glad people have come forward to support him from their own experiences. Lily just came home from school early with a stomachache. We are all just feeling the loss of Joe today in our own way. Considering she has only missed maybe 4 days out sick in the last 12 years, I was happy to come and get her and bring her home. We continue to have people from all over the world who knew Joe reach out to us. It has been a blessing to see how many lives he touched in his life. It reminds us all that we need to live life to its fullest and always be compassionate to others. As Zac Oslica so aptly put it in his eulogy for Joe, his best friend, you need to learn to live like Joe and love like Joe. A month has gone by and it isn’t any easier yet. I still have flashes daily that this must all be a bad dream…and then the reality that it isn’t is gut wrenching. This photo was flashing on my echo show as I started this post and it is one of my favorites of Joe. It was taken at Ft. Benning, GA when Michelle and I were there visiting Joe for family weekend during basic training maybe seven years ago. Just love that smile! I love you, and miss you, my son.

Today the UPS guy stopped at our house for a delivery for me. I wasn’t expecting anything so I was wondering what in the world it could be. Well…it was THE WORLD….a book compiled by friends of Joe’s when we lived in Norway. The book was entitled, “Our Love for Joe Messina from Around the World”. The cover was the last picture I took of our four kids together….on the day after Thanksgiving last year while we were in Houston. Inside were some photos of Joe when he was a gangly teenager…and pages and pages of letters from his classmates and teachers at the International School of Stavanger.

As Rich and I read these beautiful letters to us about Joe and his impact on others…even at an early age, we shared some laughs and shed many tears. We had always thought Joe was a great kid…and then a great man because we were his parents and we were biased. This proved that even out of our sight and care, Joe was a good person. I know he didn’t always make good choices…but he owned up to them and made them right when he could. I am very proud that he was our son and he touched so many people’s lives.

We lived in Sola, Norway from May 2017 until June of 2010. Joe went to the International School of Stavanger for 7th, 8th, and 9th grades. He had the pleasure of participating in soccer, track and field, baseball, basketball, surfing, and of course, rugby, where he excelled on the pitch and gained a lifelong love for the game. So many teachers, parents, and students reached out to me shortly after Joe died..even the principal. International Schools overseas are not quite like American schools. They are quite a bit smaller…maybe 30-40 students per grade level. Everyone speaks different languages and comes with different cultural traits. The schools depended on heavy involvement of parents, so I could immediately picture most of the faces to the names of the letters in this book…albeit their middle school or early high school faces. I knew them as well. They also sent a huge flower arrangement to Joe’s celebration of life.

A local friend of mine was commenting the other day about the support of our military family, and the support of the people we had lived with in Norway. It was a very special group of people from multiple continents and countries…all trying to make their way together through Middle School and High School. I am not sure who put this together, but it is truly something I will treasure for a lifetime. I felt like I was getting a long distance hug from each of you. Thank you so much!

If you have ever been to Omaha, you know that we have one of the best kept secrets….one of the world’s best zoos. The Henry Doorly Zoo and Aquarium is an amazing place to go and just wander around for hours….days even. When we first moved here, the kids and I would go and explore the zoo several times during the summer. We all had such a great time…even in the sweltering heat. All of my kids have always loved going to the zoo. Both Joe and Tim wanted to be zoologists for several years growing up. My boys grew up watching and idolizing men like Steve Irwin and the Kratts Brothers. We went to the zoo in Beijing when we were in China to adopt Lily and actually left a bit early because Joe was so upset over the white Bengal tigers in empty cages. This is my 12 year old Joe at the time, crying for the sad life these animals were living. So when around the time Joe died, I got a flurry of Henry Doorly Zoo ads in my email in box and in my mailbox, I took that as a sign that we needed to re-invest our interest and money in the zoo. There were 2 elephants born at the zoo for the first time ever at the beginning of 2022. They need toys and special equipment and extra vet care. The zoo also supports many wildlife projects in Africa to keep animals surviving in the wild. So right before we went to Kansas City for Joe’s services last weekend, we went to the zoo. We gave a sizeable donation and became patrons of the zoo. We have also given to the baby elephant fund in Joe’s name. I think he would have liked that. We had Tim with us and Tammie, Rich’s sister. Unfortunately, it was Omaha Public School’s spring break and ALL of Omaha seemed to come out on an uncommonly warm and sunny spring day. We only stayed a few hours because, honestly, it was a zoo….pardon the pun. It was way more people than I wanted to be with at the moment (or ever). But I did take my camera with me and shot a few photos I would like to share. I think Joe would have liked these since he just loved animals. I hope to go back again soon when the weather is awful and I have the place to myself more.

Today was a hard day. I actually am in a much better head space right now but the middle of my day was pretty hard. Joe was an adult. He was married to the love of his life and lived in KC. I am so lucky that I took so many photos of him…because I have those…but today in the mail, I received a lock of his hair that the mortuary in Colorado cut for us before he was cremated. The last day I saw Joe in person was on my birthday, February 15th. He drove up to surprise me the night prior. His hair was so long and curly on the top…I totally made fun of how he looked…like an alpaca. I even sent a photo to Michelle of him that morning. He still hadn’t gotten it cut a few weeks later, because drill weekend was another week away. Thank heaven for those long locks on top, as we were able to get a good piece of it. If he had been within regulations with the army…maybe not. It was hard to see his hair in a plastic baggy…knowing this is what I physically had left of my first born son. I went out and got something a little bit better than a ziploc with his name, birthdate, death date and case number on it. So today was kind of a hard day. Sometimes things just hit a momma’s heart just right and this was it.

Michelle hurt her knee doing Brazilian Jiu Jitsu a few weeks ago. She was in a knee brace for the services and found out the morning of Joe’s visitation that she would need surgery to repair it. That surgery was yesterday. She is home and doing well, surrounded by caring friends. Thank you, prayer warriors, for lifting her in prayer while she was in surgery. Now comes the hard part…recovery. Please continue to keep her in your prayers as she has the lovely task of being on crutches for the next 4-6 weeks (anyone who has ever been on crutches is inwardly groaning, I know). A special shout out to Joe’s best friend, Zac Oslica, who when with her to the hospital, stayed with her there and got her situated at home and stayed with her all day. I still say I can totally see Joe looking down at Zac with his hand over his heart, the other one outstretched to him, a smile on his face but tears in his eyes and a look of love for all Zac is doing for Michelle when he can’t be with her himself. Zac, you are a rockstar. Thank you.

Whilst Michelle was in surgery in Kansas City yesterday morning, I was at the cancer center at Bergan Mercy all morning. I had blood work done, another one of those 2 inch needles stuck in my hip (that is every 28 days), and a zometa infusion to seal my bones to prevent any more cancer getting into my bones. I already have a spot on my L2 on my spine, but that has remained stable and it has not spread to other bones yet. The Zometa is every 3 months. I then left there and walked around the corner in the building to the radiology department and had my 3 months scans on my chest, pelvis, and abdomen with and without contrast. Always a good time. (not). It was a long morning. I kept telling Michelle that at least she got to sleep through most of her trip to the hospital! This was a pretty hard trip for me. Usually Joe calls me or texts me when I am at the hospital for these longer treatments. He was by far my biggest “kick cancer’s butt” cheerleader. I was really missing him. The oncology nurses there are stellar. They knew I was off…no smiling…even under the mask. They were all so kind when I told them what had happened. Which made the tears flow even more freely. We are still unable to have a support person with us in the infusion room due to COVID. It is a lonely place where you are looking at all those others around you…many very sick…wondering how long it will be until you reach that point. The infusion center also looks out over two cemeteries. Yeah, that is great for cancer patient morale as well. The weather turned a bit crazy yesterday and it started snowing like crazy for about 20 minutes. My only comic relief of the morning was that I was sitting their watching this poor man on a riding lawnmower mowing the grass around the hospital grounds in the driving snow. Only in Nebraska. Didn’t stop him. He just kept mowing. We were all just watching him from the window….if he had only looked up.

For the first time ever, I had the results from my CT scans given to me by my local oncologist and within a day of the scans. So Rich and I had a zoom meeting with my doctor and he said he only had 3 words to tell me: STABLE ONCOLOGICAL STATUS. These were good words. I have been on this new treatment plan for a year as of this month and I am stable. He seemed a little surprised by that. He seems to be the kind of oncologist to throw the kitchen sink at cancer, no matter what it does to the patient. I brought up this treatment to him about 16 months ago and he dismissed it. I finally brought in research studies backing up my idea. He is still surprised that it is working better than traditional chemo. That’s okay. Let him be surprised. My quality of life is so much better. I will be meeting via zoom with my sarcoma specialist at the Mayo Clinic on April 14th. I should be hearing the same message….keep on doing what you are doing. Here’s my traditional post from treatment day:

I know I haven’t been on here….I started constructing a post in my head a million times to just not have the courage or the energy to actually go through with it. But it has been a rough couple of days writing helps me get some of this overwhelming volume of emotion out. This may be a bit scattered as I have a lot I want to cover…and I may just have to stop and walk away for a bit to get my head in the right space. Do you know that when a woman is pregnant, her blood volume increases by 30-50%? If that were to happen to a man, it would kill him. It is simply too much. My heart is pregnant with emotions…I feel like I can’t always appropriately cope with so much grief and sadness. I am typically a light hearted kind of person and the weight I feel in my heart is crushing. I have a friend from my Air Force days who lost her 10 year old daughter to cancer several years ago. I was so hurt for her. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was feeling in losing her child. I now know and it beyond any words I can offer. I tell people that I am utterly devastated. That doesn’t seem to even touch the tip of the iceberg. Do I know it will ease with time? I am sure it will. I am an educated woman and used to be a perinatal grief counselor. Time goes pretty slow when you are wading through molasses though. One hour at a time….because one day is still just too big for me. This will be long…but know it is for me to get my thoughts and memories out before brain fog starts snatching them away from me. No one has to keep reading, but there is a lot about behind-the-scenes stuff that you may not know…so keep reading if you want.

My brother and sister-in-law, Joe and Heather Messina, arranged to have Tim fly out from California to Omaha the day Joe died. I cannot thank them enough. What a relief to have my children under by wing and held close! My sister-in-law, Tammie Revallo, fly out here from Florida a few days later. It was great to have her here. She got pretty good at finding the nearest tissue box when one of us had a wave of grief crash over us. Tam did so much more than that, including spending time with Lily while the rest of us went down to Kansas City to be with Michelle as she organized Joe’s services at the mortuary. She went shopping with Tim and me to get him a suit for the Celebration of Life and some more business casual clothes for the visitation. Evidently when you are 25 years old, you high school suits tend to run a bit on the small side. He knocked it out of the park. I have never seen him looking so professional and handsome. He was the first one up to speak at the Celebration of Life, reading his older brother’s life history in his obituary written so eloquently by his wife, Michelle. Tammie then went back with me later that day with Lily for us each to get dresses for the Celebration of Life. We quickly found what we wanted and I took up our dresses to the register to be rung up. The lovely woman behind the counter said, “Oh aren’t these beautiful! You must be going to a festive occasion! What fun!” My face crumpled as I told her they were our funeral clothes for Lily’s brother – my son. I totally lost it right in the middle of Von Maur. She felt horrible, God bless her….she stepped out from behind the counter and enveloped me in a hug and then quickly found me a box of tissues. Welcome to my new reality. I thought after I accepted my cancer diagnosis and moved on to accepting my impending death that the tears would stop flowing so easily. Wrong. I have cried a river…and I am not sure I knew that a human body could produce so many tears. We came home and Rich was there. He had had an appointment of some kind that day and was unable to help me pick up Lily from school, which doesn’t usually happen. However, he looked at all of us (Tammie, Tim, Lily and me) and said, “You are either going to gasp or cry.” I ended up doing both. It is not a secret that Joe had a lot of tattoos. He loves the art on his body and was always planning the next one. He had just finished his second sleeve with a large Valkyrie. More on that in a sec. Rich hates tattoos. Joe had his first tattoo for 18 months before Rich found out about it. He was mad! He is so anti-tattoo – it was a big point of contention between the two of them. Anyhow, Rich had been going through a lot of Joe’s files on his laptop, trying to help Michelle get into accounts in his name, etc. He found a drawing that Joe had done with he was about 14 or 15 years old of a cross that he had drawn himself. He wanted it to be his first tattoo. By the time he was in college and started getting tattoos, he never got that cross. He had elaborate tattoos of St. Michael the Archangel, La Sagrada Familia Basilica in Barcelona, Japanese masks, olive branches, two roses for each of his siblings, quotes in Fijian on his ribs, a stone angel, a remembrance tattoo for his great grandparents, and a Valkyrie – but he had never gotten this cross. Rich found a tattoo artist who tattooed Joe’s cross exactly as drawn on his arm. Rich also put Joe’s name, the date of his birth and death, and then “remembered forever” in Italian…which was also part of a tattoo Joe had. The magnitude of this act Rich did floored me. There was also a call for all of his soldiers going to drill the weekend after his death to wear the “Messinastache”. Joe loved that corny moustache he wore. Every 4 weeks he had to shave off the downward growing hair on the sides of his mouth in order to be within regs of the Army for drill weekend. As soon as drill was over, he would start growing it down again. He called them his “little firefighters”. I have to be quite honest with you. I couldn’t stand that cheesy moustache and gave him a lot of gruff about it. However, Rich grew his out for the visitation on Friday night in KC. So many people were giving him double takes and saying how much he looked like Joe. Rich said the tattoo never gave him any discomfort. He hated the moustache though. He shaved it off within 5 minutes of getting back to the hotel from the armory on Friday night.

The Valkyrie comes from old Norse legends of the Norse Gods. A Valkyrie was a female warrior…kind of like a ghost, who would come righting in on horseback to take up the spirits of the fallen warriors on a battlefield. Those who had died a good and noble death and led a good and noble life, would have their souls be swept up onto the back of the horse with them and taken across a bridge to Vahalla…a large banquet hall where the warriors of days gone by would sit at a large banquet table with horns of ale and eat, drink, tell stories, and enjoy their lives after death. On the memorial bracelets that Joe’s unit made in his honor, the last line reads, ” ‘Til Valhalla Brother.”

I can’t begin to tell you how last Friday and Saturday went down in Kansas City. The Olathe Fire Department and the Missouri National Guard pulled out all the stops to send Joe off in true style. There were so many soldiers there….so, so many firefighters….so many Delta Chi alums…and so many friends and family from all over the country who came to help us mourn and celebrate a life well lived. We were there a couple of hours early each of the days because we wanted to be present when Joe’s ashes were brought to the armory. They left the mortuary in a hearse, but they were accompanied by Joe’s crew on the firetruck with his bunker gear neatly folded in his spot on the truck. They led the way with lights going, leading Joe to us. There were also firemen in their dress uniforms as honor guard at the armory, creating a corridor to the entrance to the armory. They saluted Joe’s ashes as he was brought in by his crew and received by his family. It was incredibly emotional both days. Friday there were almost 100 people there….Joe’s family and closest friends and colleagues there to welcome him. We each took our turns paying our respects to Joe…which was hard….how can a man so full of life be reduced to ashes in an urn? To be quite honest with you, Rich and I just sobbed uncontrollably in front of that urn…as did his silblings. My heart shattered anew watching Michelle stand there with her hand on the top of the urn…speaking words to her soulmate in her heart. Watching my mom kiss her fingers then place them on the urn of her oldest grandson…gutted me. There were 250 well thought out photos Michelle and Joe’s friends help pick out for a slideshow that played in a loop during Friday night. Although the actual visitation didn’t start until 5, we decided to start receiving people at 4:15 as there were already so many people there. The line lasted for two and a half hours. First off, this was a long time…a lot of people. They figured we had 550-600 people there on both Friday and Saturday. The army got one keg donated and others were brought by Apex Realty…the company Joe worked with prior to becoming a firefighter. We ordered food. Never really saw any of it. The firefighters picked up the tab…which was sizeable. They really were so kind and made sure we were taken care of in every sense of the word. The funeral home picked up 95% of the tab because Joe was a veteran and a first responder. They did a wonderful job helping Michelle do all the things that a 28 year old should never have to do. When we went to pay for the rest of the bill, the firefighters with us told us it was already taken care of. We literally just had to show up and grieve. Michelle and I had brought scrapbooks and photos and things that were just “Joe” to put on display for people to look at. I think that helped some people see other sides of Joe, which was nice. There were lots of wreaths and flowers. There was even a spray of flowers from a bunch of people in Europe who had gone to school with Joe at the International School of Stavanger. It took my breath away when I read the card in the flowers….the last time he saw these people was at the end of his 9th grade year. I don’t know how to thank them…so I am doing it here. You touched me so much by that…after all this time. So many teachers of Joe’s reached out to me…especially from ISS. Most of his former rugby coaches have reached out to me as well. I have had nothing but love and support from literally all over the world…and that goes to show how one goofy guy with a huge smile and even bigger heart could touch so many people. Michelle, Rich, Tim, Lily, and I hugged and cried our way through the long line that seemed to never end. Lily is not a hugger…she is not one that likes to show emotion. We have been joking with her that she hugged more people that weekend than she had in her 17 years combined. She was a good sport about it though, and it was a good thing for all of us. I got to meet some people I only knew by name and reputation…Michelle got to meet some of our parish family from Omaha, who graciously travelled to Kansas City to support our family and celebrate Joe’s life with us. I saw some of Joe’s high school friends I hadn’t seen since he graduated in 2013. Military friends from all over the country travelled to support us, even though they hadn’t seen Joe in years. It was overwhelming and touched us so very deeply. We are just sorry we didn’t get to spend as much time with everyone as we wanted to. We did get to share stories though. I think there is a Joe story for every day that he lived. Goodness, he did not live life carefully…but full throttle with an emphasis on fun. People from all walks of life came up and shared Joe stories…some funny, so more serious on how Joe had affected their lives. At one point, the Goosenecks (Joe’s company in the army) came up and presented Michelle with Joe’s combat helmet. He had taken that to Qatar on deployment and then to St. Louis, when they were activated to keep peace on the streets during riots.

As Saturday rolled around, the Olathe fire department once again knocked it out of the park by putting a ladder truck in front of the armory with a huge American flag draped from it. Once again, Joe was accompanied from the mortuary to the armory with his crew in a firetruck. The surrounding fire departments each volunteered a crew or two to cover Olathe’s district during the service on Saturday, so the majority of the Olathe Fire Department could be there. When I got up to read the scripture verse, I looked up and saw a packed armory with firefighters and army servicemen standing in the back and on the sides several people deep. My heart swelled with pride that my child was a part of two such wonderful groups of people…a brotherhood with the OFD and a brotherhood with the MO ANG. There were three key speakers besides the OFD fire chaplain: Zac Oslica (Joe’s soul brother…his best friend), Rich (my husband – Joe’s Dad), and Michelle, Joe’s love of his life…his wife. All of them did so well considering how hard it was to be up there talking through such immense grief. I have to say that Michelle wow’d me. I couldn’t believe she was able to get up there and speak so eloquently about what if felt to be loved by Joe Messina. Here is a young woman who has just lost her husband tragically, has two black eyes, and a brace on her knee. She has to be one of the bravest women I have ever known. Joe was posthumously promoted in the Army National Guard. They were kind enough to give us two copies of the promotion paperwork…one for Michelle and one for us. SSgt Bingham…our casuality assistance officer, thought of everything. Michelle was presented with a flag from the OFD…one that had been flying over Station One, where Joe usually worked. They also made a wonderful shadow box of Joe’s rank and badges . There was also a beautiful wooden box filled with letters from fire fighters for her to keep. They are surrounding her with love and food, God bless them – they are already arguing over who will mow her lawn this summer. The Army did a flag folding ceremony and presented a flag to Michelle along with a coin. I lost it a few times, but when all the firefighters’ radios went off with the last call from the dispatcher, I really lost it. The pallbearers, Joe’s brother and then his closest friends, carried Joe outside. The corridor was lined with friends and family in uniforms, saluting Joe and sending him off. Only the immediate family went outside. Taps was played….also a gutcheck. The bag pipes and drums from the Fire Department got me to weeping. The three by three gun volleys by the Army got me sobbing. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful tribute to my son. I am sure he was in Heaven looking down pink-faced, embarrassed that this was all for him.

After Michelle and I went through all the things to take to our respective homes after the service, the firemen drove us to our hotel and Michell and her close friends, to her home. They handled all the transportation, which was huge. I can’t thank the OFD enough for taking such good care of us. All of our family in town along with some of the firefighters, met us for dinner and drinks to toast Joe at O’Dowd’s Irish bar in Kansas City. We were all emotionally and physically exhausted but it was good to be together and share more Joe stories. I did, however, almost get in a fight with a very drunk young lady. She came right up to my brother, sister-in-law and me and got right in our personal space…swaying to and fro like a drunk cartoon character. I asked her, “Can I help you?” She said, “Why do you have to be a hater? Can’t I join the party?”. Um…yeah. So I am typically a nice person…99% of the time. She caught me at my 1% moment and my mama bear instincts just roared to the surface. So I repeated my question…then told her this was a private party and she needed to go find her friends. Again with her calling me a hater. I snapped. I grabbed her by her upper arms and moved her about 15 feet away and let her have it. I told her that I had said my final good byes to my son today and since she didn’t know Joe or anyone in our party, it was rude and thoughtless of her to bring her drunk self into our last celebration of Joe for the night. My brother, Craig, must have somewhat panicked, because he had a waitress over to get this poor girl away from me before she opened her mouth again to say something I might not be able to handle. Sigh. Yep, mom of Joe Messina…nearly in a bar fight. Nice. Classy. Years of taking and teaching martial arts where you avoid confrontation…and certainly never cause it. Sigh. Not one of my better moments. However, the memory of it still gets my blood pressure up. One of the firefighters there was in Colorado just before the services for Joe and went to the site on the highway where Joe died and placed a wreath there. Another gut-check moment. What an absolutely thoughtful thing to do. So there are now numbers which never leave my head….446…Joe’s OFD number that was on all his gear. The OFD had made stickers with his badge number on it. Others have taken tape and put it on their own gear. 377 – the mile marker in Colorado along I-70 where Joe died on March 6, 2022. I see things that trigger my grief to the surface…maybe a song…a woman with a t-shirt with the number 94 on it…the year Joe was born. Crazy stuff. Sometimes I can just smile and laugh and talk about Joe with a warmth in my hearth, other times, it is crippling grief. We were so fortunate to have our families spend the weekend in KC with us. It was a pleasant distraction and good to catch up with everyone. My dad and Rich’s mom are both suffering from dementia. While the rest of us were grieving, they were out of the safe spots of their homes and thrown into a situation where they were lost as to who people where and why we were gathered together. This added another layer of pain on the weekend, so see them both so lost and confused. God bless my mom and my father-in-law for making the trip to be with us as we honored their grandson. It was so hard a trip for them as caregivers.

So that brings me to toilet paper. Gotta end on a lighter note. We have had so many people come by and bring food, flowers, memorial gifts, and paper products. We even had a beautiful tree delivered to our house from friends of mine from my high school days in Alexandria, VA. What a wonderful surprise! But I guess when people lose someone in the Midwest, they bring you packages of toilet paper. We literally got 6 large packages of toilet paper. I was agog at the whole thing. They simply mentioned that we would be having a lot of visitors and our guest bathroom would run out of toilet paper. Hm… never thought of that. Good thing they did! It was just a small thing that made us smile that first week. I will end this small novella with a thank you to everyone who has reached out to both us and Michelle. I think I am safe to say that we are both still coming to grips with everything that has happened and what our new “normal” lives without Joe in it will be like. My heart aches for her and I ask that you keep her in your prayers. She needs all the strength and love you can send her. Here are some favorite Joe photos….

This is the 7th day my Joe has been gone. Does each day get easier? Not really. I had four crying jags in the first 2 hours I was awake today…one before I even got out of bed. It is kind of like this each day….wake up and realize it wasn’t a dream and Joe is still dead. Cry. Ugly cry because it is just so awful. Then I get up and put on my brave face to try and get things done. it is usually works until I have something that will tip me over the edge, and that is most often just a kindness from someone. I have been approached by many people I don’t even know, to share a memory they have of Joe. It hurts, but it is nice. I have an overwhelming feeling to check on Michelle several times a day and I am convinced that is my Joe….nudging me to take care of his beautiful bride. Then usually early evening is good…but night time…when I lay down in the quiet of my bed, my heart and mind travel to Joe again….and to Michelle, who is doing the same thing…but it is 10 times worse for her. Then I sleep and start this all over again. It isn’t what I would want for anyone.

I was finally able to get to see Michelle yesterday. Rich, Tim, and I left at 6 a.m. to drive the 3 hour 15 minute drive to get to Michelle. Wow, I really needed to be able to wrap my arms around her and just sob together. I also needed to be able to hug Joe’s best friend, Zac, a few other of the people in his close, inner circle of friends. All those were accomplished. The Army National Guard Casualty Assistant Officer came to Michelle’s house to talk with her. Poor guy. It was his first time doing this and you could tell he was so nervous. However, blessedly, he had known Joe and had spent time with him in Fort Polk, LA last summer for 4 weeks. When he realized we were friendly people, just shattered with grief, we were able to get a lot done. He spent the whole day with us. The two Olathe firefighters who had gone out to be with Rich and Michelle in Denver, came over with all of their things from Joe and Michelle’s totaled car. They did the tough job of going to the impound lot in Colorado and picking through the wreckage to get all their belongings. They brought them back to Olathe and washed it all and then folded and bagged them up and put them into rubbermaid bins and brought them to Michelle yesterday. I watched with tears streaming down my face as she sat on their living room floor, quietly unloading each bin….touching all of Joe’s clothes and hats…his belt…carefully running her fingers over Joe’s things…then carefully placing them back in the bins. One of the bins was all Rich’s skiing gear that they were carrying in their car with them. Their suitcase was crushed…cracked and broken, but she still wanted to see it and run her hands over it before they took it away outside to be thrown out. Michelle said she had done laundry the day before and had been folding his pajama pants and socks….as they had been in the laundry hamper. I can’t imagine. Her hurt runs so deep and wide…I want to just clutch my heart every time I see her hurting…which is almost all the time right now.

Michelle and I had another good cry, a talk about how things were so unfair. Then we took a deep breath, put on our big girl panties and went to the mortuary. We filled a boardroom….Michelle, her parents, us, Tim, 2 firemen, and an Army guardsman. Michelle did so well keeping it together and answering the funeral director’s questions and making decisions about the services we will have for Joe. It is going to be a great event. Here is the info I wrote up for facebook:

Joe Messina was a wonderful man and he is getting a wonderful send off. Please join our family at the Missouri National Guard Armory (7600 Ozark Rd – Kansas City) Friday, March 18th from 5-8 p.m. for an informal gathering to honor Joe. Saturday at 2 p.m. in the same location, we’ll have a Celebration of Life, which will be more formal. We would love to see you at either, or preferably, both! In lieu of flowers, information on memorial donation sites will be forthcoming. We would love for first responders or people in service to honor Joe by wearing their uniforms on Saturday.

I leave you for now with a picture I love of Joe and Michelle…their love for each other just shines on their faces. I need to write about this but I am still at a point where my mind is muddled and not as sharp. Work things that would take me 10 minutes are taking me 2 hours because my brain won’t stay focused. So more later. I just want to thank the Olathe Fire Department and the Missouri National Guard for being so incredibly wonderful. When I say above and beyond….put that on steroids and multiply it by 100. I am so very humbled by the outpouring of love for Michelle and our family. So I am taking life not even day by day yet, but hour by hour.

I know you all can’t tell, but I have started, back spaced, and restarted this post several times. I don’t know where to begin. My wonderful, fun-loving, gregarious son, Joseph Matthew Messina, was taken from this world today in a car accident in Colorado this morning. His wife, Michelle, whom he loved so much it made my heartache, was in the car with him but is doing fine and should be released if not tonight, then tomorrow morning. She is in shock and devastated along with the rest of our family. Joe, Michelle, and Rich spent the weekend in Colorado snowboarding and relaxing. Joe and Michelle dropped off Rich at the airport this morning…I spoke to them all in the car around 0830 my time. A couple of hours after they dropped him off, they were in the accident. The weather was really bad. I was able to call Rich and let him know at the airport and not to get on a plane but to find a way to Michelle, who was all alone in a small rural hospital. Praise God for good friends, as Kevin Graefe, a college friend, came and got Rich and took him to Michelle. He helped remember who they were talking to and helped secure her release so they could take her to a major hospital in Denver to get further treatment. They are still by her side, and hope to be able to take her to Kevin’s house once her small surgical procedure is done. Rich’s brother, Joe, is flying to Denver tonight to be with Rich. Joe and Heather arranged for Tim to fly home to me tonight. He should be here in an hour or so. A very special thanks to Wanda and Ed Oslica, who stayed all day with Lily and me….made phone calls to Missouri on Michelle’s behalf and helped me remanence about stories about Joe, and their son Zac, his best friend. Church friends came with paper goods and food, hugs and prayers. Thanks to the Emily Ryan, RoseAnn and Tom Harvat, and Tanner, Mick, & Kaysie Wiebelhaus for coming to just sit with Lily and me today. I have never cried so much or so ugly in my life. The pain of knowing that my son is gone is overwhelming. But I want to make this positive….and about Joe.

I have received so many texts and messages on social media that I am overwhelmed. People have reached out to me from all walks of Joe’s life….whether it be Army buddies, firefighting brothers, Delta Chi brothers, or simply childhood friends of his from all over the world…the messages are streaming in. It is a testament of the kind of person Joe was. He was the life of the party. He had a huge heart and he made me very proud. I loved being around him because he always made me smile. He didn’t even have to try. I feel like the light of my life has dimmed dramatically today. Joe was a huge supporter of my photography. He loved the photos I took and pushed me to get them on platforms where they could be noticed. That meant the world to me…that he was proud of what I did and found it interesting. He called often and almost always called using videophone so we could see each other. Joe loved his little sister, Lily. When she was really little, for years she sat on his lap during Mass, usually finger wrestling. Joe had two dogs, Moose and Jenna, who thought the sun rose and set on his attention. Half of the time he called me, he would be on his day off from the fire department, he would be in bed and snuggling with a dog or two. They will miss him terribly. Then there is Michelle. He fell so hard in love with this girl 8 years ago. They were finally married on October 17, 2020. Not nearly long enough for him to love her the way he felt she deserved. I told people so often how much I enjoyed spending time with the two of them because they were such a neat couple. The playfulness they had between them was adorable and it made my heart swell to know they had each other.

Please pray for my Joe, for Michelle, our family, his fire department (who has been amazing), his Army National Guard unit, and his friends. He had so many wonderful friends who loved him and although I already knew this, it has been really powerfully underlined today. Although I am absolutely devastated by all that has transpired, I do feel the love of everyone trying to support us. Please know I am just not up to responding back to most of you right now. It isn’t because I haven’t seen your messages or appreciate your kind words. I just can’t….I just can’t….right now. I am leaving you with the last picture I had taken with my Joe (I always called him that as there are several Joes in our family). This was a few weeks ago on my 51st birthday when he drove up from KC to surprise me. People, hug your children…tell them you love them. Let them know how much you care about them…how proud you are of them. I was blessed to know I was dying and told him as much whenever I could. This may be the only gift of a stage IV cancer diagnosis. My beautiful boy, my handsome son….until we meet again. I love you.