My husband was shot and killed in Afghanistan. The events preceding, during and immediately after his death occurred far away from our home in North Carolina. The people that surrounded him during this period are all strangers to me. Personal accounts or exacting details of the event have not been shared. What I do know, is that my experience with his death is very far removed from the frantic, loud, brutal and ugly reality of it all. For me it has been very quiet. I was informed by soft spoken Marines. I was escorted to Dover to witness the dignified transfer where the electric hum of the platform being lowered with Ben’s flag covered remains was oddly out of place. I welcomed him home to Cherry Point and then quietly followed behind his hearse to the funeral home where Marines silently stood guard at his casket while friends and family spoke to me in hushed tones. His memorial service and eventual burial at Arlington were so touching and beautiful and yet so quiet. It is what I seek and crave the most now. I find myself often withdrawing from others in order to find that quiet. It gives me peace and calms me. I question myself if I really need to know the intricate details of Ben’s death. The NCIS agent recently reached out to me and inquired if I had any questions and what would be a good time to call. It was unsettling to me. I don’t want to have a conversation with this man. What exactly is there to say? I do know I would like to know the time of the shooting as well as the time of Ben’s death. When complete, I would also like the investigation report as it is devoid of human emotion. I emailed him back my questions and request. It of course was met with silence which I warmly embraced.
