I was sitting there in the breakfast room, feeding my daughter from the continental breakfast. We were feeling good. Six months in to our deployment today. I was feeling content. And then, I heard it. The News.
Thirty-one U.S. Soldiers died in a helicopter crash.
Thirty-one mothers, fathers. Sons, daughters. Wives, husbands. People.
And thirty-one doors were knocked on today. Thirty-one families’ worst fears were realized in a single moment. He’s not coming home.
Most days, I am confident, determined. I move forward, towards that date. So far away, but still there. I keep a happy face, I push through the difficulty, I operate a househould and raise a family alone. And I feel content. Most days.
But, everyday, I mask that fear. I ignore the torment.
I am not supposed to think about it, not supposed to dwell on it. We spouses ignore the fear, pretend it’s not there. But it is. Deep down, and rooted firmly. That’s why we live email to email, skype call to skype call. Because we know. They are still there. And those days that the calls don’t come, the inbox is empty–
They scare us. Scare me.
I saw his face today. Laughed with him. Hoped with him. Talked with him. He’s okay. For today.
But, each day is a new day. Each day is a new wait, another unit of time to hope through, pray through. Beg God that your Soldier makes it through.
They didn’t. And their families were just living another day. Laundry. Nap time. Meals. Play dates. And in the midst of living, hoping, praying, their doorbells rang.
Tonight, as I crawl into bed, knowing that today my husband is okay, I pray for the souls of the fallen Soldiers. I pray for the wives left behind. I pray for the children, who will wonder where Daddy, where Mommy has gone.
I pray. I pray for the safety of all our Soldiers. Of all the families with loved ones deployed. Because all of us lost a members of our large family. All of us were shaken to the core. All of us were reminded of that God-awful fear. That our Soldier might not make it home.
God bless our Soldiers and their families. May the souls of the faithfully departed rest in peace.