Tribute to a soldier
Wilson, a married father of two, was remembered on Monday, October 16, with an estimated 1,000 mourners attending his funeral at the Mary Immaculate Roman Catholic Church in London.
A sunny Thanksgiving weekend.
A family tradition: one last weekend at a well loved cottage.
A mother and sons in Sudbury.
A brother in London.
A mother and father at the lake.
Late at night a visit from the military in an unmarked vehicle to inform them of a death in Kandahar.
An ambush and a death.
Shards of disbelief and grief.
The fortieth.
A death clarifies a life.
Trooper Mark Andrew Wilson was an outdoors enthusiast, a skilled soldier who began his military career at the age of 35 … and who couldn't believe that he would be paid for the opportunity to serve, for having been given the opportunity to make a contribution and a commitment, to do what he loved.
He was the “old man” to his brother/soldiers. It was a term of respect and affection as they and his superiors recognized his worth and leadership.
His family braced for the outpourings of support and shock from family, friends and strangers.
A book of condolences at City Hall.
They returned to London to prepare for a funeral and the additional protocols of a military ceremony.
They met for days with the media for the media must be fed.
They drove to Trenton for the re ramping ceremony.
A call from the Governor General who apologized for her absence because of the torrents of rain. Our representative of monarchy and country, she made a special effort to talk to two young boys to express her sympathies.
A family shattered but relieved that husband/father/son and brother had returned to Canadian soil.
Hundreds of citizens of Trenton standing in the rain to pay their respects to the unknown and known soldier.
A caravan of OPP, military and police who closed the 401 to allow the speeding cortege to speed from Trenton to downtown Toronto.
Officers from Ajax, Whitby and Toronto who acted independently and arrived at the same expression of solidarity and support: a cavalcade of flashing lights of police and military vehicles, a hearse and limos in the rain and darkness of an empty freeway.
OPP, firefighters, military and police who saluted from entry ramps and overpasses… to insure privacy, to show respect and to pay tribute.
Visitations to a funeral home.
A two hour waiting line to express what could not be expressed.
The exhaustion of the grieving, the inadequacy of all words. A funeral marked by drawings of Canadian flags from young students.
Veterans with battle ribbons and medals directing traffic.
“Are you family?”
A ceremony of faith, family and friends.
The young soldiers and officers, male and female.
“The band of brothers”.
The crowds of relatives, friends and strangers who circled the Wilsons and who were embraced by them.
A priest, a military chaplain who brought closure and tribute and consolation to a thousand mourners.
A godfather who offered comfort and who called Mark “a hero'.
A public catharsis.
A private internment.
We mourn his death and we celebrate his life.
Godspeed.
