Soldier: That Time I Wanted to Fist Fight God

 I should be packing. August 2, 2025, would have been our 10-year anniversary. That won't happen anymore. That part's not up for debate. The question is, "Do I do anything to commemorate the occasion?" I feel as though allowing things to happen organically is the best route, but that idea goes against my very nature. I am a planner. Last year, I had planned for us to renew our vows on a beach in Florida. We were to stay in a Disney resort, and get weekly park passes so we could visit when we wanted. I'd even picked out our suite, meal plans, and payment plan. But all of the money we'd saved went to bills along with the refund that was supposed to fill in the gap. As of right now, I'm in financial ruins.   Why Disney? Well, we were also going to be celebrating our only child's 13th birthday. Plus, we were both turning 39 and neither of us had gone. It was a way to celebrate each milestone while knocking something off our bucket list. Instead, he actuall...

The quiet suffocates and stillness is deafening. Even today. Maybe more so. And to think, those were things I prayed for.  Note to self: Be careful what you pray for. You may actually get it. At some point, I had to describe his last moments on this earth to paramedics and police officers. I provided details about the last time I talked to him and how he'd had a 'back spasm' for almost two weeks. I repeated the story so many times my throat burned. Understand, I had to provide this information while my shell of a husband was still lying on the living room floor. For too long, he was uncovered. At some point, An older officer instructed the paramedics to cover him up.  At some point, My parents showed up. Somebody went for food. Everybody cried. My mother called people who needed to know. We waited to call his mother (that's Another Story).  We sat around his shell making hollow conversation.  At some point, My sister showed up. The body still being there made her loo...

 As mad as I am, I'm so grateful that I didn't have to wait for him to die. I watched him die, not knowing what it was, but I didn't have to wait. Friday, 12-20-2024, I woke up around 6:15am. I was exhausted and frustrated. My husband had been fighting a 'back spasm' for the last two weeks. He hadn't gone to work, taken out the trash, or washed the dishes because he was in so much pain. He barely ate, drank, or moved around. He was so uncomfortable.  During those two weeks, I fussed. Fussing is my love language. I had to start our homeschooling Christmas break early so that I could care for him. In meeting his basic needs, I got behind on everything. Laundry, budgeting, paperwork, lessons at home and church, my daughter's personal care, and the list goes on. And so, I fussed. I also showed him stretches to help with the pain, provided him with water and food, and massaged the pain. The night before 12/20/24 I injured my own back in an attempt to pick him up ...