Facing the music

An HH-60 Blackhawk helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan early Wednesday morning. Three PJ's on board died, two of whom were our friends. The news came like a shock wave.

Although part of this war for the last 4 years with both a brother and a husband on the front lines, death has managed to elude my small sphere. Unlike many, we hadn't been yet slapped across the face with the cold reality of the "ultimate sacrifice" talked about so much. Not any more. Now it's real in a way I couldn't quite comprehend before. I ache for my friend, a young widow who was going through her husband's first deployment. My chest tightens and the lump in my throat gets so big i can't see straight. I want to just put my arms around her, all the while being forced to acknowledge that who i'm really trying to comfort is myself -- and ignore the biting whisper reminding me, "this could very well be you."

We talk about sacrifice a lot. Asked to live it -- in this way -- and i just want to run for the hills. When asked how I do "this military life" I've always said i can't and won't be ruled by fear. You have to give your life, your marriage, your spouse up to One who holds all things in His hands. I'm not sure anymore i know how to live that motto out. I pray for strength to let go of the things I hold most dear . . . strength to live "this military life" for however many more years we are called to . . . but its a prayer whispered through tight lips and a wildly beating heart.

I wish i was with you dear friend, in your emptiness, angst, confusion and despair. I wish I could comfort you. All I can say is I'm sorry. To my dear brothers in arms and my dear friend, I am so sorry.