Long Term Assistance Program Newsletter – April 2025

Saluting Gold Star Spouses

Gold Star Spouses Day is a solemn but important day of remembrance and recognition observed on April 5 each year. It is a day dedicated to honoring the spouses of military members who have made the ultimate sacrifice in service to their country.

Gold Star Spouses Day has a rich history dating back to the aftermath of World War I, when families of military members would display service flags featuring a blue star for each family member serving in the armed forces. If a service member died in combat, the blue star was replaced with a gold star, symbolizing the ultimate sacrifice.

In 2010, Congress designated April 5 as Gold Star Spouses Day to recognize and honor the spouses of fallen service members. The loss of a spouse in the line of duty brings forth incomprehensible grief and life altering challenges for a Gold Star Spouse. Their journey is marked by perseverance, strength, and the need to navigate a new reality while continuing to preserve the memory of their loved ones.

Through shared experiences, Gold Star Spouses form a community of support and understanding. They offer each other comfort, guidance, and strength by creating a network of resilience and camaraderie that sustains them through this challenging journey.

Gold Star Spouses Day serves as a reminder that our nation stands with Gold Star Spouses by offering support, gratitude and remembrance. Through commemorating this day, we strive to honor the memory of fallen service members, while also acknowledging the strength and courage exhibited by their surviving spouses.

The Long-Term Assistance Program is a permanent resource for survivors, committed to providing them with sustained, quality assistance from the Marine Corps. We vow to remember the fallen and honor the continuing sacrifices of Gold Star Spouses and all survivors of our beloved Marines. If you have questions or need assistance, the Long-Term Assistance Program can be reached at ltap@usmc.mil or call 1-866-210-3421 ext.2.

Embracing the Sadness of Grief

By: Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.
Founder and Director of the Center for Loss and Life Transition

Sadness is a hallmark symptom of grief, which in turn is the consequence of losing something we care about. In this way you could say that sadness and love are inextricably linked.

Yes, when you are grieving, it is normal to feel sad. I would even argue that it is necessary to feel sad. But why is it necessary? Why does the emotion we call sadness have to exist at all? Couldn’t we just move from loss to shock to acceptance without all that pain in the middle?

The answer is that sadness plays an essential role. It forces us to regroup—physically, cognitively, emotionally, socially, and spiritually. When we are sad, we instinctively turn inward. We withdraw. We slow down. It’s as if our soul presses the pause button and says, “Whoa, whoa, whoaaa. Time out. I need to acknowledge what’s happened here and really consider what I want to do next.”

This very ability to consider our own existence is, in fact, what defines us as human beings. Unlike other animals, we are self-aware. And to be self-aware is to feel sadness but also joy and timeless love.

I sometimes call the necessary sadness of grief “sitting in your wound.” When you sit in the wound of your grief, you surrender to it. You acquiesce to the instinct to slow down and turn inward. You allow yourself to appropriately wallow in the pain. You shut the world out for a time so that, eventually, you have created space to let the world back in.

The Dark Night of the Soul

While grief affects all aspects of your life—your physical, cognitive, emotional, social, and spiritual selves, it is fundamentally a spiritual journey. In grief, your understanding of who you are, why you are here, and whether or not life is worth living is challenged. A significant loss plunges you into what C.S. Lewis, Eckhart Tolle, and various Christian mystics have called “the dark night of the soul.”

Life suddenly seems meaningless. Nothing makes sense. Everything you believed and held dear has been turned upside-down. The structure of your world collapses.

The dark night of the soul can be a long and very black night indeed. If you are struggling with depression after a loss, you are probably inhabiting that long, dark night.

It is uncomfortable and scary. The pain of that place can seem intolerable, and yet the only way to emerge into the light of a new morning is to experience the night. As a wise person once observed, “Darkness is the chair upon which light sits.”

The Necessity of Stillness

Many of the messages that people in grief are given contradict the need for stillness: “Carry on;” “Keep busy;” “I have someone for you to meet.” Yet, the paradox for many grievers is that as they try to frantically move forward, they often lose their way.

Times of stillness are not anchored in a psychological need but in a spiritual necessity. A lack of stillness hastens confusion and disorientation and results in a waning of the spirit. If you do not rest in stillness for a time, you cannot and will not find your way out of the wilderness of grief.

Stillness allows for the transition from “soul work” to “spirit work.” According to the groundbreaking thinking of psychologist Carl Jung, “soul work” is the downward movement of the psyche. It is the willingness to connect with what is dark, deep, and not necessarily pleasant. “Spirit work,” on the other hand, involves the upward, ascending movement of the psyche. It is during spirit work that you find renewed meaning and joy in life.

Soul work comes before spirit work. Soul work lays the ground for spirit work. The spirit cannot ascend until the soul first descends. The withdrawal, slowing down, and stillness of sadness create the conditions necessary for soul work.

Liminal Space

Sadness lives in liminal space. “Limina” is the Latin word for threshold, the space betwixt and between. When you are in liminal space, you are not busily and unthinkingly going about your daily life. Neither are you living from a place of assuredness about your relationships and beliefs. Instead, you are unsettled. Both your mindless daily routine and your core beliefs have been shaken, forcing you to reconsider who you are, why you’re here, and what life means.

It’s uncomfortable being in liminal space, but that’s where sadness takes you. Without sadness, you wouldn’t go there. But it is only in liminal space that you can reconstruct your shattered worldview and reemerge as the transformed you that is ready to live and love fully again.

Sadness and empathy

Another evolutionary and still relevant reason for sadness is that it alerts others to the thoughts and feelings that are inside you. We all know what someone who is sad looks like. His posture is slumped. He moves slowly. His eyes and mouth droop. Being able to read others’ sadness is useful because it gives us a chance to reach out and support them. In centuries past we intentionally made our sadness more evident as a signal for others to support us. We wore black for a year, and we donned black armbands. We literally wore our hearts on our sleeves.

Sadness elicits empathy—which is a close cousin to love. Empathy and love are the glue of human connection. And human connection is what makes life worth living.

Receiving and accepting support from others is an essential need of mourning. If you try to deny or hide your sadness, you are closing a door that leads to healing.

Your Divine Spark

Your spiritual self is who you are deep inside—your innermost essence, stripped of all the external trappings of your life. It is who you were before you took on your earthly form, and it is who you will continue to be after you leave it.

It is your soul, or “divine spark”—what Meister Eckhart described as “that which gives depth and purpose to our living.” It is the still, small voice inside of you.

When you are grieving, your divine spark struggles like a candle in the wind.  Many hundreds of people in grief have said to me variations on, “I feel so hopeless” or “I am not sure I can go on living.” Like yours, the losses that have touched their lives have naturally muted, if not extinguished, their divine sparks.

When you are depressed, you no longer feel the warm glow of your divine spark inside you. Instead, everything feels dark and cold. The way to relight your divine spark is to turn inward and give your pain the attention it needs and deserves.

Honoring Your Pain

From my own experiences with loss as well as those of thousands of grieving people I have companioned over the years, I have learned that you cannot go around the pain of your grief.  Instead, you must open to the pain. You must acknowledge the inevitability of the pain. You must gently embrace the pain. You must honor the pain.

“What?” you naturally protest. “Honor the pain?”  As crazy as it may sound, your pain is the key that opens your heart and ushers you on your way to healing.

Honoring means recognizing the value of and respecting.  It is not instinctive to see grief and the need to openly mourn as something to honor; yet the capacity to love requires the necessity to mourn.  To honor your grief is not self-destructive or harmful, it is self-sustaining and life-giving.

Yet you have probably been taught that pain and sadness are indications that something is wrong and that you should find ways to alleviate the pain.  In our culture, pain and feelings of loss are experiences most people try to avoid.  Why?  Because the role of pain and suffering is misunderstood.  Normal thoughts and feelings after a loss are often seen as unnecessary and inappropriate.

Unfortunately, our culture has an unwritten rule that says while physical illness is usually beyond your control, emotional distress is your fault. In other words, some people think you should be able to “control” or subdue your feelings of sadness. Nothing could be further from the truth. Your sadness is a symptom of your wound. Just as physical wounds require attention, so do emotional wounds.

Paradoxically, the only way to lessen your pain is to move toward it, not away from it. Moving toward your sadness is not easy to do. Every time you admit to feeling sad, people around you may say things like, “Oh, don’t be sad” or “Get a hold of yourself,” or “Just think about what you have to be thankful for.” Comments like these hinder, not help, your healing. If your heart and soul are prevented from feeling the sadness, odds are your body may be harmed in the process. Your grief is the result of an injury to your spirit. Now you must attend to your injury.

You will learn over time that the pain of your grief will keep trying to get your attention until you have the courage to gently, and in small doses, open to its presence.  The alternative—denying or suppressing your pain—is in fact more painful. I have learned that the pain that surrounds the closed heart of grief is the pain of living against yourself, the pain of denying how the loss changes you, the pain of feeling alone and isolated—unable to openly mourn, unable to love and be loved by those around you.

Yes, the sadness, depression, and pain of loss are essential experiences in life. You are reading this article because you are feeling this and are struggling with the depression. Acknowledging that depression in grief is normal and necessary—even if the people and the culture around you are telling you that you don’t have to feel depressed, that there are ways around the pain— is one significant step on the pathway to healing. The next step is understanding if your depression may be what is called “clinical depression” and, if so, having the courage and self-compassion to seek help.

This article is being reprinted with permission of the author. All views expressed are those of the author.

Honoring Our Heroes

Corporal Spencer Roman Collart

Celebrating Cpl Spencer Collart who died at only 21 years of age on August 27, 2023. Selfless, brave, courageous – all words that define him. Spencer lost his life going back into a flaming Osprey V22 cockpit trying to save his brother and sister, pilot, and copilot, after crash landing in the Tiwi Islands, Northern Territory, Australia. Twenty Marines in the back survived; six of them get to see their wives again, four of them get to see their kids again.

To our beautiful son, who we miss every single day. Semper Fidelis!

By: Alexis Collart, Surviving Mother

Lance Corporal Isaac Callisto Scott

Our Hero - US Marine Lance Cpl Isaac Callisto Scott

In a few words:
His sister’s best friend, confidant, and partner in crime.
His little brother's hero, video game partner, Lego building buddy, and book reading partner.

His Dad’s hero; they could converse about anything gun related for days, and even as a young man, he would shadow his Dad when home.

To his Mom, my first-born love, the one I dreamt of and prayed for. The apple of my eye, my protector and helper. He will always live on in my heart, always.

He was a walking encyclopedia for anything Star Wars and Marvel.

Funny, great at imitating accents, lit up a room when he walked in, loving, caring, and when he looked at you with those big, puppy, brown, twinkling eyes, he’d melt your heart along with that sweet smile. You couldn’t help but love him.

By: Xochitl Scott, Surviving Mother

Lance Corporal Jonathan Edward Gierke

Lance Cpl Jonathan Gierke proudly served his country in the short time he was in. He joined the United States Marine Corps in 2021, where he attended Marine Corps Recruit Training in Parris Island, SC; Marine Combat Training in Camp Lejeune; and Basic Landing Support Specialist Course in Camp Lejeune. His ultimate duty station was assigned to 2nd Marine Logistics Group, also in Camp Lejeune.

Jonathan said he always knew he wanted to do something special and meaningful with his life. Due to the military influence surrounding him, I think he felt it was sort of a calling. He was always so disciplined and had great military bearing; we knew that aspect of the military would be easy. Whenever he would write home while in Marine Corps Recruit Training, he always made it sound like it really wasn’t as hard as everyone made it out to be. Tough, disciplined, well behaved, and had a quirky sense of humor, but no matter where he went, he was sure to make friends.

By: William Gierke, Surviving Father

Corporal Stephan Benjamin Ayala

My Husband Cpl Stephan B Ayala was a good ole Texas boy Born in 1978 and raised in East Texas by his mother, Joni Salter, and alongside his sister, Toni Fox, he grew up understanding that America was worth fighting for.

He joined the Marines in August of 1999, where he was sent to MCRD San Diego. Upon completion of boot camp, he was sent to Camp Johnson, NC. He completed his SOI and MOS training. He was the sent to Camp LeJeune, NC.

He met his future wife on his birthday in 2000. They got married in April of 2001 and welcomed two boys in the following years.

He passed due to PTSD and is remembered as the smiling happy man he was. We continue to honor him by encouraging anyone to seek help before you feel your choices are mentally limited.

By: Penny Ayala, Surviving Spouse

Lance Corporal Ryan George Winslow

LCpl Ryan Winslow, of Hoover, Al., enlisted in the Marine Corps in January 2005. After completing training as a Tow Gunner at the School of Infantry, he was assigned to SCOUT Platoon, 2ND TK BN, Camp Lejeune, N.C. His platoon deployed to Iraq on March 25, 2006. On April 15, he and two brother Marines were killed during combat operations when their HUMVEE struck an IED. Ryan’s family, friends, and fellow Marines were inspired by his integrity, strong work ethic, never-quit attitude, and willingness to help others. Since age four, he wanted to become a police officer. The City of Hoover proclaimed him an Honorary Police Officer a month after his death. American Legion Ryan Winslow Post 911, Hoover, Alabama, and Military Order of the Devil Dogs, LCpl Ryan Winslow PD, Alabama Pack, were re-named to honor him in 2015. We miss him but will see him again.

Semper Fi, Son and Brother
George and Marynell Winslow, Kristen Winslow Coy

By: George Winslow, Surviving Father