CPL James “Jimmy” Kalitz USMC
April 8, 1981 – August 31, 2014
Shared by Michelle, Jimmy’s sister:
Our family and friends were all very loud and proud of our Marine. Besides being a father, it was one of his greatest accomplishments. It wasn’t until he returned from combat that the energy shifted. We were still immensely proud, but he returned changed, obviously troubled, and with undeniable signs of PTSD. Our pride soon shifted to worry. Worry— for what his service to our country meant for our family, and most specifically, him and his future.
It takes hard work to separate the pain associated with my brother’s death from the cherished memories of his boisterous life: his dash… Of all the time he spent on Earth between 1982-2014, only 4 measly years were devoted to the Marines. He was so much more than that.
He loved music and sports, especially baseball. “Go Phillies!” He was a cool guy, with his beeper, his Walkman, the shoes and clothes. He always had the latest thing, whatever it was. He was hardworking and loved making his own money. Everyone’s parents loved him; the ladies loved him. He was a sweet talker, and he knew it. He had these blinking green eyes with long black eyelashes.
Eight years my senior, we grew up in a different era with a different set of parents who were doing their best to raise us given their own dysfunctional upbringings. He was promoted to big brother on September 14, 1989 and anyone who knows him will know that we shared a special bond. He hung the moon and the stars in my eyes. But when I stare out into a dark night’s sky, he reminds me that I hung them for him too.
He was funny and so charismatic, our very own comedian. He was literally entertaining, really dramatic, but oh, was he caring. He had a huge heart and he was a giver. He liked cars and street racing.
He was a passionate lover, or so I’m told, yuck. But he was a husband, a romantic, apparently…. He became a father first on June 29, 2005, and I know in my heart, he became a changed man that day. Hopefully that is his favorite before and after. He became a father again to a total of three beautiful girls who are now blossoming into beautiful young women.
To my brother now, if you are anywhere and can hear this message: your life didn’t have to be defined by “before and after” the Marines or “before and after” the War. I accept and acknowledge it played a part in breaking you. It has some— but not all— responsibility for your absence. And I remember the memories when being a Proud Marine brought you purpose and joy. But at last, your life can and will be defined by so many other things too, like before and after you were a Father. And you were a good one.
I remember you fondly as a Girl Dad. A cheer dad. Painting nails and pony tails. Watching Hannah Montana and singing Katy Perry songs. Pool days and “lunchy.” Shooting BB guns and fishing. Going to Lowe’s for Kids Craft time. Riding bikes, riding ponies. Birthday parties and Halloween costumes. The fun stuff.
Those years were definitely my favorite chapter. Experiencing my auntie era with you was fun and fulfilling. Every day was an absolute adventure. The ability to make a mountain out of a molehill but in the greatest way. Just an ordinary task like going to the grocery store was made into a scene from a movie. We were two characters, you and I…
So at last, for me, there was never a life “before” you. Only one “after” you. From the day I was born, you were there. Everyday. Until on August 27, 2014, you said “Love you, sister” as I walked out your front door. On the other side of the door, I held the knob in my hand just a second and paused before getting in my car and driving away, unbeknownst to me what would come after. And for that, my heart breaks again.
Until our next lifetime together, Shelly.”
Jimmy was born in Philadelphia, PA.
Other states he called home: North Carolina and New Jersey
Resting place: New Jersey
