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Introducing Michele Marcum Introducing Michele Marcum Michele Hiester Marcum I am Michele. And I am a survivor. My story mirrors that of every other TAPS survivor. The plot is the same, the ending ultimately identical, the tone oppressing. And there is no "happily ever after." Someone I love died, and I'm writing my way through the grief and tears in the hope that healing sneaks its way in. I became a bona fide TAPS card-carrying member after my brother, MSGT Michael T. Hiester, encountered a landmine near Kabul
Coping with Guilt Coping with Guilt Michele Hiester Marcum We are coming up on the ten-year anniversary of my brother's death, and I simply cannot believe it's been that long. Seriously, where did the time go? And who the heck am I now? A decade of rolling emotions have reshaped me into someone else…and I haven't yet decided whether I like her. I remember learning in my college psychology classes that there were only six basic emotions in the human population: anger, disgust, sadness, fear, surprise, and happ
Happy Thanksgiving? Happy Thanksgiving? Michele Hiester Marcum Ever notice how holiday greetings begin with “happy”? Happy Thanksgiving! Happy Holidays! Happy New Year! And whether you celebrate Hanukkah or Christmas, they, too, are paired with “Happy” and “Merry”. Even ordinary days like Friday become Happy Friday! It seems everyone is full of cheer. Back in the 80s, Bobby McFerrin had a song advising us, Don’t Worry… Be Happy, and just this last year, Pharrell Williams released a ditty dedicated to (and app
HOLLOW-WEEN HOLLOW-WEEN Michele Hiester Marcum It’s that spook-tacular time of year, with all things creepy and frightening lurking in the shadows and lunging from television ads as you mindlessly surf channels, looking for something worthy of your time and energy. And, quite frankly, I absolutely hate it. At one point in my life, it was an exciting challenge to see who could unmercifully scare whom, and it was doubly entertaining if someone cried or at least wet their pants. But that was long before
Pure Gold Pure Gold Michele Hiester Marcum As a child, I loved the rambunctious revelry of Christmas, with its brilliant lights, mammoth toy catalogs, never-ending wish lists and long days of cookie baking and candy making. I loved the noise and commotion and the belief in Santa, who reigned in not only his reindeer, but over the whole world, it seemed. As an adult, however, I love the rich history and familiar traditions that accompany the Christmas season, begging my spirit to calm itself in the
Ten Ten Michele Hiester Marcum Good things come in tens. Bowling pins, crab legs, athletic conferences, the fingers and toes of a newborn. My birthday falls in the tenth month of the year, the New Year’s countdown in Times Square begins at ten, and the tenth anniversary of most anything is a reason to celebrate. Unless… A decade. Ten very long years that have seemingly whizzed by on dragging feet since my brother left this earth. Basic math tells me there are 60 minutes to an hour, 24 hours t
Memorial Day Memorial Day Michele Hiester Marcum And here we are almost to Memorial Day again. Heavy sigh. Sad heart. This is the 9th one we've "celebrated" since my brother left this earth, and it seems impossible that it's been that long. But I know it's right, because I just counted them out on my fingers! Before I know it, I'll need more than two hands to tick off the quickening years. So much has changed and yet nothing has changed at all. It's a perplexing paradox to be caught between the past
Always the Atlantic Always the Atlantic Michele Hiester Marcum I have always loved the ocean. I love the mysterious life that teems below her surface and the sandy beaches she hugs. I crave the sunshine that never strays too far from her expanse. I am intrigued by the abrupt changes in her direction and the intensity with which she approaches the shoreline. Sometimes she drifts in with an unexpected tranquility, carrying with her all sorts of treasures to be discovered. And sometimes she lumbers in, hulkish
Happy Birthday Dear Brother, Happy Bir... Happy Birthday Dear Brother, Happy Bir... Michele Hiester Marcum Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear brother! Happy Bir… Oh wait. Am I supposed to be celebrating your birthday? Do the angels throw parties in heaven like we do on Earth? Is anyone up there worrying whether the cake is white or chocolate? Or if the frosting is buttercream or whipped? Hmmm… the multitude of questions one ponders when there are no answers! I think if I had read this blog
I Wish I Wish Michele Hiester Marcum Once upon a time, I had all the answers. Or at least, I thought I did. My life was more predictable than not, and with all the wisdom of my youth, I just knew that I could handle any roadblock I encountered… all by myself. Independence is a good thing, right? All that changed on a chilly, sunny day in March of 2005. That’s the day I received the call that many of you have experienced. Someone you love isn’t coming home. Looking back on that time in my life, t
Memorial Day Memorial Day Michele Hiester Marcum School’s out! School’s out! Teachers let the monkeys out! I remember many years ago, when that sing-song sentiment ushered in Memorial Day Weekend each year. Ahhh… the start of summer! Late nights splashing in backyard pools, slurping watermelon, and chasing lightning bugs, followed by lazy mornings spent sleeping in. Memorial Day meant a parade of flag-waving politicians and patriotic band kids, marching from downtown all the way to the cemetery. Some g
Thanksgiving Thanksgiving Michele Hiester Marcum Well, this will be our eighth Thanksgiving without my brother, and I just really can’t believe it’s been that long! Have we really gathered together over eight different turkeys…watched eight seasons of holiday football…braved eight Black Fridays of shopping nonsense since he left this Earth? I remember when I was counting moments and then mere hours, waiting for the agonizing grief to subside. Somewhere along that timeline, the hours stretched to days, the
Sibling Revelry Sibling Revelry Michele Hiester Marcum Co-conspirators. Confidants. Comrades. Alternately friend and foe. Two apples from the very same tree. Two peas tucked in a single pod. That was us, my brother and me… Here’s where I’d like to elaborate on our quiet, idyllic childhood, leisurely painting the words in feathery pastel strokes with a gentle hand. But I can’t. Life at the Hiester house was vibrant and hectic and boisterous and always, always full. Neighborhood kids flocked to our house, t
Rock On Rock On Michele Hiester Marcum When I was about three years old, I received a diminutive barrel-back rocker for Christmas from my aunt and uncle. Secured against the bottom runner was a little music box that would play a tinny melody with each forward motion. And when I rocked back, the music stopped. I don’t remember what my brother received that year, but I’m certain it paled in comparison to the significance of my gift. I loved that little chair, and when I left home to start my own family
Gold, Commonsense, and Mirth Gold, Commonsense, and Mirth Michele Hiester Marcum Underwear. Yes, I said underwear. Very few holiday traditions grab your attention as quickly as the mere mention of men’s shiny gold sateen underwear. But before I can impart our newest family secret, I must bring you up to speed with how we arrived at this quirky tradition. One of my fondest childhood memories of Christmas mornings is the stocking tradition. Every year, it was a race among my sister, my brother, and me to see who c
6 Women Who Inspire Us In Grief 6 Women Who Inspire Us In Grief TAPS Women have defined so much of our world's history as leaders and pioneers. So, why wouldn't they help us define the way we grieve? In honor of International Women's Day, we recognize some of the women who inspire us along the grief journey. 1. Our mothers The woman who gave me the courage to grieve is my sweet mom, the most genuine, kind-hearted person I've ever known. When my brother died, she somehow instinctively knew when to rein me in, when to hon
Times Keeps On Ticking... Times Keeps On Ticking... Michele Hiester Marcum As the mom of a rambunctious elementary student, I've recently had the "pleasure" of helping him master the art of telling time. The old-fashioned way, that is - on a clock face with two swinging hands. To say this has been a frustrating process for us both would be an understatement. It seems the preference for digital format doesn't end with iPads and gaming systems but rather, extends even to this outdated skill I seem to take for granted.
I'm Not Angry I'm Not Angry Michele Hiester Marcum I’m not angry. And that makes me mad. If you’re confused by that, then that makes two of us! Let me explain… During the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, I’d been especially mindful this year of the gamut of emotions existing among those crossing my path each day. There are driven shoppers, eager to snatch up deals with the tenacity of pit bulls, leaving nothing but empty shelves and harsh words in their wake. There are the sweet, pokey sho
Life: A Game of Chance Life: A Game of Chance Michele Hiester Marcum When I was a kid, I loved to play dice games. I loved to toss the cubes into the little cup and then shake them until the rattle annoyed everyone in the room so much that they yelled "stop" in unison. And then I'd do it again. I loved the rush that came from never knowing what I'd roll. Doubles? Full house? Snake eyes? It was all a game of chance, and I loved the excitement, and I hated losing. With every loss came a renewed vigor for upping
Live, Laugh, Love Live, Laugh, Love Michele Hiester Marcum Recently, I had the privilege of browsing with friends in a rural flea market setting. As I wandered from booth to booth, up and down each gravel-packed aisle, I noticed how repetitious the vendors' offerings became. The same décor, the same clothing, the same garden supplies, the same meaningless treasures. It seems that the world is full of advice these days, on every available surface, from home to garden. If a thought has ever been thought, it c
Love is in the Air Love is in the Air Michele Hiester Marcum Ahhh… Welcome to February, the month of cupids, romance and rocketing Hallmark profits! I confess that I’ve never been much of a romantic when it comes to Valentine’s Day. Don’t get me wrong. I cherish time with my loved ones, and I appreciate well-intentioned cards and the occasional box of chocolates. But when it comes to the glitzy bling, extravagant dinners and romantic outings, I’m more apt to choose the practical, simple options (much to m
Words Words Michele Hiester Marcum I am a writer at heart, and I'm happiest with a pen in my hand, a new notebook on my lap, and my mind racing full speed ahead. I communicate. It's what I do. Ironically, one of the highest hurdles I've had to cross is that of communication after. After the funeral dinner. After the final goodbyes. After everyone else resumes their normal everyday busyness. I just don't know what to say. It's been eight years for my family and me. Just eight of the longe
Destination Discovery: Exploring the Unexpected Destination Discovery: Exploring the Unexpected Michele Hiester Marcum I am a planner. A calendar-toting, pen-in-hand, master of the daily grind. Phone apps? Electronic devices? Social networking reminders? Nope, none for me, thank you. I like the old-fashioned, whole month-at-a-glance paper variety with a small space in which to write each day’s activities. Last minute addition? No sweat. A squiggly arrow and a different color ink allow that modification. That’s my life. Varying colors, ha
Resuming Something Set Aside: The Maine Thing Resuming Something Set Aside: The Maine Thing Michele Hiester Marcum Vacations have always been a prominent source of my most treasured childhood memories. More often than not, I remember the little details more than the destinations. I don’t remember many of the cities we visited, the events we attended, or the sights we saw. But I remember dining on ham sandwiches from an old Coleman cooler in a hotel room. And I remember playing cards with my family in the front half of a two-room, blue
Enough Enough Michele Hiester Marcum I had the privilege of spending New Year’s Day with my third-grade scouts, shivering at our local state park. What was intended to be a lesson on conservation and environmental responsibility for them turned out to be yet another life lesson for me. Nothing like a chilly 20 degree day and my own words to clear the holiday fog from my brain. Before I explain all that, I need to tell you a little about where I am in my own journey. For many reasons, this has been
To Be A Patriot To Be A Patriot Michele Hiester Marcum There are some defining moments in life that become forever ingrained in the memory and upon which all other memories hinge. For my family, that moment came knocking when two men in green delivered news we didn't want to hear. My brother wasn't coming home. I don't know that I can adequately express what that means, but I'd like to share a few thoughts: First and foremost, we've been forced into a club no one wants to join - The Gold Star family. Whi
Coming Home Coming Home Michele Hiester Marcum Somebody somewhere once said, “Home is where the heart is,” and if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that quote over the years, I could probably take a vacation - away from home. I’m not a world-class traveler who circles the globe on a regular basis, but we do indulge in periodic family getaways. We love to visit places we’ve never been, and we enjoy planning all the details of each trip: where we eat, where we sleep, and what we see and do. And a