St. Charles mom, kids carry on as best they can

There's something in Maureen Jordan's voice that triggers an instinctual feeling that something is wrong. She speaks with a faint weeping, a weariness in her tone that betrays moments spent alone in tears and the struggle to suppress them.

Jordan is adjusting to a new life as a single mother of four children, including the baby boy she gave birth to on St. Patrick's Day. The baby, Martin Jordan, carries her husband's name. Maureen Jordan and her three older children carry the memory of watching their husband and father die.

Martin Jordan Sr. died Aug. 1 while saving five young relatives, including his oldest son, from drowning in Lake Michigan when a rip current sucked them out into the deep waters and crushing waves.

The 45-year-old St. Charles resident was with his family and extended relatives on a summer trip when he died as they tried to rescue him. Martin Jordan was able to save everyone that day except himself. For that, he became a hero. For his family, he became the loss their love won't allow them to forget.

That was nine months ago, but Maureen Jordan isn't ready to return to work yet. Marty's death is still freshly replayed in her mind.

"For other people, time has gone on," she said. "For me, I just try to get through each day and try to give my children as normal a life as possible without grief consuming me or them."

Jordan is used to seeing that grief. She's worked in hospice for more than a decade. It's a profession that prepares you to deal with death. But that's the death of others, strangers, not those you hold dearest. There's still an element of anger in her grief.

"I wasn't sure I was ready, not so much to be around dying people, but just to have empathy," Jordan said. "If someone is caring for their 95-year-old grandmother, I just would not be able to help them because I'd be like, 'Well, at least you know she's dying.' Or, 'You had 95 years with her. What are you complaining about?' "

Hospice families watch their loved ones die, but not like Marty Jordan's death. To watch, helpless, as he slipped beneath the waves, or to have actually been someone he saved while dying triggers a different level of self-blame, more haunting what-ifs.

Jordan's eldest son, Jack, was in the water with his father when he died. His younger brother, Liam, was on the shore.

"Liam's immediate reaction was, 'I'll never see my Daddy on Earth again,' " Jordan said. "I told all my children from the beginning that Daddy would not have wanted to be alive if any of the children had to die. We talk about him every day. We talk about how Daddy would always say this or how Daddy cooked something. I don't want to pretend like he wasn't here. That's not going to make it better. I also don't want to just be crying all the time, but they've seen me cry. I try not to show them as much as I may be feeling."

Having young children without the ability the express themselves as an adult also complicates the issue of knowing how they feel about the death of their father. The outside world can be cruel even when you're 9 years old.

"A few weeks after Marty died, on Jack's first day back to school, another kid came up to him and said, 'Did you know it's your fault that your dad died?' When that happened, Jack didn't tell me that was said to him," Jordan recalled. "One of his friends told his parents, and they called and told me. I had to ask him, 'Jack, you know that's not true, right?' He seems to understand that. It's hard for him to talk about what happened that day. But he has other cousins that were there in the water with him. I think because he doesn't blame them it allows him to not blame himself."

Jordan was seven weeks pregnant when Marty died. During her pregnancy, Jordan worried about the impact of her continuous grief and depression on the baby. On St. Patrick's Day, she gave birth to a son that will never have the chance to know his father in person. Now she is learning the monumental task of raising four children on her own.

"Marty was very hands-on with the kids," Jordan said. "I never had to ask him to change a diaper. Now when the baby cries, it's just me. I'm trying to do things as he would do them. Sometimes I think if I didn't have the kids it would be much easier to just give up or not get out of bed. But they give me the strength to keep going."

Marty Jordan's surviving relatives and close friends have supported Maureen through her grieving process. They've organized a benefit for her and her children Saturday at St. Patrick High School in Chicago (martyjordanfamilybenefit.com). Maureen Jordan prefers to think of it as a big party to celebrate her husband's life. She doesn't like to think of herself as needing charity.

"We used to play the lottery, but now I have some money, and all I want is Marty," Jordan said. "Sometimes I forget for a second and I'll be like, 'Where is he?' That's the hardest part. I still look for him. I still think that maybe he'll be there. I know he won't, but my heart won't let me believe it."