Lucky

I've been writing and rewriting this entry for a few weeks, not knowing if I even wanted to post it. Who wants to think about war, especially now that Matt is home and we're living a (mostly) civilian life? The truth is, our experiences over the past few years have colored every aspect of our life together and affected me in ways I could never have imagined.

For many years, I've been a member of a military spouse chat group. It started as a place to get advice on planning a military wedding and evolved into something much greater - friendship, support, Internet therapy. Earlier this week, I found out that one of our own lost her fiancé in Iraq. His unit replaced Matt's in Diyala Province, so this hit especially close to home for me.

Rest in peace, Captain Mike Medders. You will never be forgotten.

***

I spent 15 months planning my husband's funeral.

I picked the church and the cemetery. Hymns, readings, speakers - all planned out. I knew what I would wear. My friends knew who to call when the soldiers came to my door. It didn't feel morbid at the time - it was just the only way I knew how to get myself from day to day. I planned for the unimaginable, thinking that when (not IF) that day came, I would be prepared.

I wasn't the only one. Other members of the "posse" and I would whisper after the services...so many services...quietly comparing notes, silently wondering which one of us would be next to recite a eulogy. Just as our husbands formed unshakable bonds, our friendships turned into something more. More, even, than the typical "Army wife" connection. We struggled together and leaned on each other and became a family.

Over one third of Matt's 300-soldier unit suffered casualties. They endured through some of the most intense and sustained fighting of the Iraq war, including the single deadliest tragedy to befall the 82nd Airborne Division since Vietnam. I lost all hope in skill and training and the relative "safety" of certain jobs. I knew that the only thing that would bring him home to me was luck.

Even now, 11 months later, I find it hard to believe that he's safe and home with me. I'm overwhelmed with love and so grateful that we are among the lucky ones.

"Death is but crossing the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still. For they must needs be present, that love and live in that which is omnipresent. In this divine glass, they see face to face; and their converse is free, as well as pure. This the comfort of friends, that though they may be said to die, yet their friendship and society are, in the best sense, ever present, because immortal." - William Penn