Getting Real

I am supposed to be blogging about this amazing Nook cover I purchased from an Etsy artist.

I am supposed to be blogging about UK's Road to the Final Four, which was cemented last Sunday.

I am supposed to be blogging about the 352's smooth transition into the driver's seat...relieving the previous unit and taking over the day-to-day operations.

But all I can think about is Katie.

Neal sent me the link to the Stars and Stripes newspaper. I tend to forget that it exists until he emails me a story or comments on a photo they posted. And then I remember and I read...until I forget again.

I think the purpose was to show me a story about the gradual shut-down of Iraq and all of the issues related with closing a base....an article called The Long Good Bye. But what captured my attention instead was the headline, "War widow blogs the next chapter of her life." And it showed a photo of the war widow. She is 20 years old.

I would be a liar if I said that every time Neal laces up his boots, packs his duffles, and heads to the Middle East, I don't consider the law of averages. How many times can a Soldier deploy and still return safely? It's the same logic that makes frequent fliers anxious and skydivers wary. Someday the law of averages will win.

I'm not sure why I have been so reluctant to blog about my concerns, my fears, the thoughts that roll around from time to time. But Katie has put it all out there, from the first moments that she learned of Chad's death in Afghanistan. On December 1, 2010, she blogged:

RIP sweet husband...
I never thought this would happen to me...
I lost my husband, but Heaven gained a damn good Marine.
I am so proud for you Chad. I am truly at a loss for words...

Just hours after someone (probably in uniform), knocked on her door and knocked the breath right out of her, she sat down and began the story of ultimate sacrifice. Her last entry was almost a week ago and she is beginning to question how much more she has to tell...what more she can give...what to say when she feels so empty and alone. But for me, she has only just begun because what the world needs to see is something only she can show. What do you say to a 20 year old war widow? I'm sorry seems hollow and self-righteous. There are no words, but perhaps we don't need to give her our words, we should be listening to hers.

I think I have been holding back because I know that other wives in the unit read from time to time and it is certainly not my intention to instill fear or worry during these long and lonely months. However, I cannot honestly say that I have been Little Miss Sunshine these last few days, either. Maybe it's the rain. Or maybe it's Train's new song, Marry Me, that they play repeatedly on satellite radio. Or maybe it's the fear of the unknown...Katie's new known. Whatever it is, it is sitting on my shoulders while I am packing to leave for the summer. It is reminding me that as glorious as it is to be going home for several months, I would trade it all in a second just to have Neal home again. I made the choice to marry a Soldier, just as Katie made the choice to marry a Marine. We helped them pack and watched them load a bus. We said a prayer and asked everyone we knew to say a prayer. Now I count the days by wake-ups and Katie counts the days until the rest of Chad's unit returns home. I have 333 wake-ups. Katie has eternity. It is easy to push her away because it is what we fear most, shaped into the beautiful face of a 20-year old woman. But it could just as easily be one of us, opening the door to a somber Soldier, dressed in uniform. So, we pray for their continued safety, we say I love you a hundred times a day, we sit in the car and cry to Train songs, and we give Katie all the love we have because even though we still fall short, she is deserving of it all.

This image is borrowed from Katie's Blog, Wade's World. If you can, please pop over and give her some love, some support, some whatever you have in your heart. And read her words...even though the tears will fall and your heart will break. Read them because this is what happens during war and Americans should not forget our heroes...especially when they come home draped with a flag.