A few months ago a friend asked me what I missed the most about my husband. It was an interesting question and while I had a very quick answer for her, it wasn’t until recently that I really started to truly think about it. It’s a very thought provoking question and one that doesn’t really have one definitive answer. There are so many things that I miss…

While I will never stop telling people about my brother I have made a conscious effort this year to not let that steer my conversations with people. I still find myself talking about “my brother who died in Iraq in 2003.” That’s probably my most used phrase, but it shouldn’t be. Why do I focus on his death rather than the way he lived? 

On July 28, 2012, it will be two years since I sent my husband to work for the last time. Two years since I last hugged and kissed him good-bye. Two years since I last heard him tell me he loved me. Two years since the four crew members of Sitka 43 took off for the very last time.

I personally believe the 5 stages of grief is a load of hooey. You don’t pass through them and move to the next in a perfect order until you reach the end. It’s a cycle of emotions…and often it feels like a washing machine on spin cycle. At this very moment I am actually sad and angry at the same time. I am beyond putting expectations on my grief. I knew and loved him for 23 years, I will NOT get over him in 9.

In this edition of the Saturday Morning Message, Carol shares responses from survivors on how they individually honor their fallen hero.  Read, share, and comment!

When I least expected it, that beastly, nightmarish animal called anger blindsided me.  July 4^th, the trip to the cemetery wit  the requisite flowers adorned with  the red, white and blue bow, patriotic music, family bar-b-ques, the day at the pool, fireworks exploding in the distance.  I believe today I may be as miserable as any day in the past 3 years. I want my baby boy back.  I want my family intact.  I want to spend the rest of my days with all my family here for holidays.