Pv2 Isaac T. Cortes,

killed in action Nov. 27, 2007, Iraq. From a conversation with Emily Toro, his mother.

I remember right before he was going to get deployed, I had this horrible dream. And in the dream he was killed. I saw it. I saw he was in the Humvee. There was some other guy, and I saw he died with someone else.

This was, I think, maybe, I don’t know, a couple of weeks [before he left], or maybe less than that, I can’t remember. I used to remember things, but losing Isaac is like...

But from that day that I had the dream, I was preparing myself for what was to come because something told me he was going to die. He was not going to come back home.

He was only in Iraq eight weeks. That’s it, eight weeks.

When I go to the storage [room], I get overwhelmed. I see a box that says “Isaac’s stuff ”; I have a lot of “Isaac’s stuff ” boxes. Even the little things.

See, for my ex-husband, for him, Isaac is dead, let him be. And I can’t. I have to remember Isaac. I keep the memory alive.

He said to me, “Mommy, I’m going to be famous. Everybody’s going to know me.” “Isaac, please, you’re so cocky.” He said, “You watch.” Then you think about it now. Him dying — look what I have done: His name is on a post office. He has his street. His name is on a race car. His name is in Chicago. His name is [on] a wall in California. His name is in the Rayburn Building of Washington, D.C.

So, technically, he’s everywhere. It’s like, OK, this is what he meant.

This is his pillow. It’s his two shirts. The two shirts and the pillow came back, so I kept this. And that’s how I sleep with them; I pretend that it’s him. It’s not him, but I pretend.