The beginning.....

Ben and I met in Yuma, AZ.  I had moved there to begin my teaching career.  He was stationed at MCAS Yuma.  One Friday night, my roommate and I started talking about our college days and specifically what we would drink in college.  Needless to say, we eventually went to the store and purchased everything we had just discussed.  Somehow we ended up sitting and drinking out on our steps at our apartment complex.  We were just talking with neighbors and friends.  We were just enjoying ourselves on such a beautiful evening.  One of the friends spied Ben walking across the complex.  He was there to meet a friend as they were heading down to Mexico.  Both of them joined us on the stairs.  Ben sat down next to me.  We talked and laughed.  I did reach out to touch his leg a few times. I remember telling bad jokes and giving him such a hard time about going to Mexico.  At some point during that evening, I actually pulled my hoodie down over my head and pulled the strings so hard that only a small portion of my face was showing but we still continued to talk and laugh.  Eventually he left with his friend and that was it.  A few nights later, however, his friend was having a party and invited Ben.  Ben proceeded to ask if that “Leafa chick” was going to be there.  What in the world transpired between us on those steps that made him interested in seeing me again?  Was it the bad jokes, the leg touching or the unexpected “hoodie incident”?   Anyway, for whatever reason, we both attended the party and that was truly our beginning.  He drove me home after a relentless string of hints that I needed a ride.   We sat in his car and talked for hours.  We felt no urgency to leave or to say goodnight.  It wasn’t a comfortable or relaxed experience though.   I was on edge.  Just sitting there and talking with him was so exhilarating and at the same time frightening. I had never felt such a strong connection with anyone before in my life. The air that surrounded us was so dynamic. You could almost see sparks.  It felt like there was a magnetic current running through the air charging  us as we breathed.  One would think that we would have jumped right into a romantic relationship soon after that night but that was not how our journey began.  Instead, we became friends.   Each of us had unfinished personal stories that needed  closure before beginning our own.  So we took our time as friends, talking, laughing and waiting for the next  step to begin. 

Thinking....

I woke up, got dressed and went to work this morning.  I didn’t want to.  These days I just want to sit and do nothing but think.  Thinking, however, drives me crazy.  My mind rushes from one thought to another.  It focuses on one thought or idea and then cleverly builds a grand plan that is then so easily swept aside as a new thought penetrates my brain.  I just wish all this thinking would burn more calories.  Being a widow is bad enough but then adding fat to the equation, just makes it worse.  Ben was supposed to be deployed for a year.  I was supposed to have a year to get my ass back into shape.  I was just coming out of the “eat everything in sight because Ben just left and I don’t have to start exercising just yet because I have a year to get into shape” mode and then he went and died on me. I need to get back into the gym......maybe tomorrow.  But for now, I sit here thinking and waiting for my first shipment of NutriSystem to arrive while eating some delicious chocolate truffles.  Maybe thinking isn't so bad after all!

Paperwork

There is always paperwork to do both before and after death.  I remember just a few months ago, Ben walking into my office and handing me a form.  It was one that we had filled out before.  It was the one that documents "What are my wishes if I should come home in a box" form.  For some reason, I was always the one assigned to completing that task.  I quickly proceeded to fill out the form and kidded him that I would take him home to NJ for a good Catholic burial with extra incense.  I them came to the question of whom would escort him home.  I looked at him and he said, "You already know."   I then proceeded to write the name of one bad ass, gun-slinging Marine that Ben had the greatest respect for.  After the notification knock on the door and days that followed, it gave me great comfort that such a good, hardcharging Marine was going to accompany my husband home.  On the day of Ben's return home, however, after seeing this Marine's face and looking into his eyes, my heart ached.  The anguish that I could see beneath his cool, collected exterior was so raw.  It pained me to my very core.  It reflected my own soul.  Afterwards, we spoke a few useless words and then he was gone.  I prayed for him that evening and every night since.  No words could ever convey my gratitude to this Marine.  My family is forever thankful to him for bringing Ben home but also for being such a bad ass Marine because that made all the difference to Ben and to his family. 

Support from the Jersey Shore......

Just received this picture from my brothers...... It made me smile and lifted my heart!

It hurts to breathe....

My stomach hurts, my hands are shaking and all I want to do is cry. I miss my husband and the life we had together. I don't want to do it all alone. I keep telling my children that we will never "move on" yet we will "go on" and continue to carry Ben in our hearts. He died for our freedoms and way of life so we should live life to the fullest and honor his sacrifice. Today, however, I just want to run away.