“I was at home, watching for him to come back online,” Shaw said. “I could hear him log off without saying anything. That’s when I knew.
” The aftermath of Alan’s death created a whirlwind for Shaw, who at the time was only 26 years old. “I knew the knock on the door was coming. I got the kids up and sent them to school.
I didn’t want them there when they showed up,” she said. “When [offi- cers] arrived, I invited them in to sit and did the weirdest thing. I’m Southern, so of course I offered them a glass of tea.
Of course, they said no. I wanted to delay what they were about to say.” Shaw said she tried to be strong for not only her children, but for Alan’s squamates, who had become family.
“I had to be stoic through all of this,” she said. Despite the shock and pain, however, Shaw found moments of joy. For example, her son’s biological father was also in the Army, having been recruited by Alan, and was one of the first to meet Alan upon his body’s return to Dover, Delaware.
There were also 300 patriot guard riders who showed up for the memorial, and revved their bikes to drown out the protests of Westboro Baptist members. And then, Shaw said, there was the moment during Alan’s military funeral in D.C.
where a service member’s jacket split down the middle. “We really needed that moment of laughter,” she said. “If you knew Alan, you know he would have been laughing, too.
” She also sought comfort in reminders of Alan’s integrity, .
