part0009

Funeral preparations started the moment I arrived home from the Treasurer’s meeting. There were already cars in the driveway, and I wondered out loud: “How did people hear about Lou dying?” Friends and neighbors were gathering around the kitchen counter and with everyone around I felt like I was in a bubble. All I could hear was “blah, blah, blah” noises coming from their mouths. I’d catch a question or two yet most of the noise was about what food was needed or what funeral home did I want to contact. I didn’t have a clue at that point, but for most of our married life we had a binder called “Answers” which had lists of who to call if either one of us died, what songs were to be sung at a memorial service and by whom, and where we would be buried. What I didn’t have were the particulars…but I had friends who knew just who to call, so I let them call.

Several of my closest friends had recently lost a parent or a sibling so they came prepared with the name and phone number of the funeral home they used. I gave up my control over to them and they made all of the calls. They knew enough about what had happened to ask the preliminary questions but then gave the phone to me to tell the particulars, such as what type of service would we have…would there be a burial or cremation…would there be any military honors and, if so, how many pall bearers would there be? What about getting Lou’s body picked up from the west coast of Florida? What would that cost me? It’s amazing how the costs varied between funeral homes and services. I knew Lou wouldn’t want me to spend a fortune and I, frankly, didn’t want to spend a lot because it dawned on me that he had canceled his $500K life insurance just two months ago because he thought the monthly premium of $500, which had just jumped from $100, was too much and he refused to pay that “just in case.” I was very angry at him for being so shortsighted about the insurance, but I didn’t want to fight with him. Again, I hated contention and to fight over life insurance premiums seemed stupid. He assured me that we had investments that would take care of us in our old age so there was no need to pay for a $500,000 plan “just in case he died.” I knew I’d get a small VA stipend, and that turned out to be a whopping $250, which paid for the death certificates and not much else. Insurance, to have or have not, is a topic for another discussion.

As the afternoon went on, I was able to find the right funeral home for the right price. Then I had to pick a date for the funeral. Lou died on a Thursday morning, April 8, 2010, and I knew he wanted to be cremated so there would be no rush in having a memorial service, but I wanted to get it done as soon as possible. The kids would all fly in as soon as they could get flights, but my brothers and their families and many out of town friends would need time to get their schedules arranged to get to Florida.

I checked my calendar and saw that Charlie’s Army flight school graduation was the next week. Lou and I had planned on driving up to Ft. Rucker, AL, to attend. I was dreading that drive because Lou was a very fast driver (he loved to go nearly 100 mph whenever he could), and I was usually scared and on the lookout for police officers. Lou was the only man I ever knew who knew how many points he had on his driving record at the Department of Motor Vehicles! He knew when he needed to slow down because another ticket or warning would suspend his license. In a way I was relieved that I didn’t have to make the drive with him – what an awful thing to think because I loved traveling with the family. I loved FLYING with the family but in an airplane, not in Lou’s Magnum.

I was so upset that I couldn’t go to Charlie’s graduation. Charlie getting his “Wings” was a milestone in his life and should have been one of the proudest in mine. I always felt he stood in the shadows of his older brother and for once in his life, he was being rewarded FIRST. Darn Dad…why did he have to ruin Charlie’s special time and WHY did I have to miss it? I couldn’t schedule the funeral for the middle of that next week so the three boys would take a road trip together to Ft. Rucker and that would be a bonding experience for them like no other. I’m grateful for that trip because they have not had a similar experience together since, but I am still mad I couldn’t have gone, too.

I also couldn’t plan the funeral for the middle of next week because it was Jenny’s 19th birthday. What kind of a birthday present that would be for her…for the rest of her life? So instead I planned a small birthday party for her on Wednesday and made sure the out-of-town guests would come in afterwards. Again, I was the organizer and tried to make everyone else feel comfortable in spite of the agony I was going through myself. WHY did he have to die the week of her birthday? Why did I feel like this about my sweetie who just died? How could I be the birthday party planner an d the funeral planner at the same time? As always, I put on the smile and became the “hostess with the mostest”!

The funeral took on a life of its own. Lou was a man of many lives, so to speak. He was a former USAF Missile Launch Officer and Intelligence Officer so he had friends from that time in his life that I needed to include in the planning. He had been the Bishop of our local church congregation, and we would need to use the building for the service so arrangements had to be made for that. He was also very involved in car racing and a member of several gun shooting clubs so members of those groups would need to be invited.

Then we had the family…my immediate and extended families would most certainly be present. There was no question that they would fly in for the weekend. However, Lou’s family was another story. His parents had predeceased him, his older sister had severed relations in their early twenties, and the one occasion I had to meet her was “unpleasant” to put it mildly. There was NO way I’d ever tell her that Lou died. His younger sister and her husband, although we hadn’t had much communication for several years, heard about his passing from Lou’s stepmother and contacted me to get the particulars. They would come over from Ft. Myers, Florida, and wouldn’t you know it, they arrived late. All invited…all due to arrive for the memorial service of the year because I would make it something people would remember for life.

Over 500 people attended the service. It was the most amazing celebration of life/memorial service and people came from all around the country. Friends from out west flew in just for the service and then caught a return flight home that afternoon. I didn’t even get a minute to talk to them before they had to leave for the airport. The outpouring of love and affection was overwhelming for me.

Christopher, my oldest son; my dad, Jack; Kurt, one of Lou’s best friends from his Air Force Intelligence team; several friends from church and I wanted to speak. Kurt talked about “the spy days” when he and Lou served as Intelligence Officers in Europe back in the 1980s, and the kids’ eyes just opened wide as they hadn’t heard about their dad’s adventures. We weren’t allowed to talk about our intelligence activities to the family, and even Lou and I were very selective in what we could tell each other about our jobs. I was an Air Force Intelligence Officer and I kept the secrets well throughout my career…the mask of secrecy prevailed and I was good at wearing it.

Lou and I met in December 1982 when we got to Intelligence training at Lowry Air Force Base in Denver, Colorado. He had just transferred into Air Force Intelligence after being a Missile Launch Officer in Great Falls, Montana, for 5 years. I was new to the Air Force and had just finished Officer Training School in Texas. I thought him to be funny, bold and somewhat of a pain as he was so self-assured and confident in all that he did. Our first real encounter was after I had given my first briefing to the class. I walked down the classroom aisle and asked him, “How did I do?” and he replied, “Nothing beats a great pair of legs!!” From then on I knew there was something special about him. Within a couple of weeks, as I was planning a class social at the Officers Club, I saw him sidled up to the bar. I went over to say hi and after a few minutes he said, “I don’t say this to just anyone, but someday little girl, you’re going to marry me!” I laughed and said, “Oh, Captain Montgomery, you’re drunk.” He said, “That may be true, but I don’t say that to just anyone!” After dating for a few months and after we both got orders to Washington, DC, he proposed. We were married a year later in May 1984 in a beautiful ceremony in my hometown of Woodstock, Vermont. We joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints almost a year later and were sealed together for time and all eternity in the Washington, DC, temple in March 1988. The last 27 years have been filled with joy, sorrow, laughter, adventure, and there hasn’t been one year that we’ve been able to say on New Years that we were bored with our lives.

Lou made me laugh. He made me cry. I was in awe of his intelligence and wit but mostly by his kindness and generosity. He was opinionated and bold – you really loved him or you did not, but that was ok with him. He lived life to its fullest as he loved his family and friends. He loved his Magnum racing car and all of the guys associated with racing, but he loved our children with all of his heart, mind and soul and he would do anything for them. He had high expectations but only wanted them to choose the right, for he knew the consequences for choosing otherwise would not bring them joy. But he allowed them to choose for themselves as that is part of God’s plan for each of us. His three phrases of wisdom to the kids were: 1: Father Knows Best (meaning Heavenly Father, not Lou!), 2: Truth or Consequences, and 3: Be the Best You Can Be. He tried to live up to those principles as he lived the gospel as best he could in his callings as Bishop, High Councilor, Stake Sunday School President, Home Teacher, and most importantly, father and husband.

What is he doing right now? I know with his insatiable curiosity for the answers to life’s questions – the big ones like “Shall a man live again after he dies?” to “What is Truth?” to “Who shot JFK?”, that he’s in Heaven’s mission training center sitting on the front row saying “BRING IT ON!” I know right now he is with his family on the other side of the veil. I know he is attending to his mother, father, our son John Henry, and playing with his very favorite kitty, Tiggy. I am grateful for our ancestors who rejoiced when he arrived on the other side as we have sought them out for many years. To his many friends, most of whom he considered brothers, I say, “Thank you.” He loved you very much and I know he taught you many things including how to help me run his company.

I know that Families can be together again for Eternity. I know that he is preparing a place for me and the family to come and live with him again and that our separation will be for a brief moment in time. I know he loved me and I will always be grateful for the 27 years we had together and for our terrific children of whom he was immensely proud. Thank you all for coming today. God bless you .

The most reverent and honorable part of the service was when my sons, Christopher, a US Marine Corps Lieutenant, and Charlie, a US Army Warrant Officer, and my brother, Brad, a US Air Force Colonel, prepared the American flag for military honors. The silence in the room was overwhelming. You could hear a pin drop. I sat in the front row of the chapel – right in front of the casket – and watched in awe as they very carefully lifted, folded, tucked and saluted the flag. Every crease of the flag was made with precision and purpose. Charlie had served on a Funeral Honor Guard during his tour at Ft. Rucker and he knew the process by heart. But the emotions he and Chris held back were palpable. They were performing the last military honor they could for their dad here on earth and they were doing it with respect and love. I felt my heart burst with pride watching the boys and remembering the service rendered by their father for over 14 years. Charlie presented the folded flag to me and when the words, “On behalf of the President of the United States, the Department of the Air Force, and a grateful nation, we offer this flag for the faithful and dedicated service of Major Louis Albert Montgomery,” were spoken, I just wept. For a moment I let my guard down and the mask of wife, mom, sister, and daughter went down and I was just a grieving widow. I looked up at the boys and the voice inside my head was screaming, “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS, POPPY?” but I kept silent and accepted the flag.

In silence the casket was moved out of the chapel into the hallway and outside to the awaiting hearse. The only reason we had a casket is because of the flag ceremony. You can’t drape an American flag over a small urn. Lou had been cremated and his remains were in a metal urn inside of the casket. The urn was delivered to me sometime after the weekend. Although I tried to keep the costs of the funeral to a minimum, I did pay extra for the casket because the flag ceremony was a necessity in my eyes.

We moved on to an amazing reception where my friends had prepared food for all in attendance. I can’t tell you what they had since I spent much of the next hour in the foyer greeting guests who had come from near and far – many of whom I didn’t know but whose lives had been touched by Lou in some way. I know I didn’t eat much throughout the day and adrenaline was keeping me upright and I have proof that I was there because pictures were taken and smiles were worn showing that I could now lead our family and we would move on. We believe that we are part of an eternal family and that families can be together forever, so on to the next chapter without Lou, at least in person.

Before I leave this chapter about the funeral week, I must speak about the food. Food was everywhere from the moment people found out that Lou died. Everyone showed up at the house with food of some sort in their hands. I guess, when we feel uncomfortable, we want to hold on to something comforting and for most people, that’s food! I’ve never seen so much pasta in all of its forms…with sauce, with meatballs, with cheese, in salad, and in soup. I swear I’ll never bring pasta to another home after a death. As the week went on, and I wasn’t really eating anyway, my mom put pasta in freezer bags so that Matt and I would have something to eat in the next few weeks when everyone was gone. Believe me, I was very grateful for the gestures and the food brought fed the many people coming to visit, but …

Reflections: Hugs and chocolate might be a better gift next time! However, you only have to send a note or bring yourself unless asked to bring food. I was so grateful for all of the potluck dishes, rolls and desserts brought to the church after the funeral because my friends fed over 300 people and no one left hungry except for me. I ended up flitting around like a butterfly making sure everyone was taken care of. I wanted to make sure this celebration of life was truly memorable, in a good way, for everyone. Lou would have wanted it like that.