Grief has a really weird way of manifesting in me. There are two things that I have clung to this whole time. Aside from my children, if I only had those two things, I think I would be just fine; your truck, and your Bible. The two things that aside from me and the kids were probably most important to you too. Your bible was, and always has been your foundation, your rock, your refuge from the storm, as it should be. I find so much piece in reading it, and finding places you marked, things that stood out to you, or things that helped you through tough times. I wonder what you were going through when you marked them, but in a way, they are there for me, it’s like you knew and marked things for me to find later. The closer I feel to Jesus, the closer I feel to you.
I guess we wouldn’t be human without some sort of draw to materialistic things, especially in times like these. I really question sometimes if you loved this truck more than you loved me, no I know the truth, but it’s fun to joke about. Well, I love this truck, and right now, I’m obsessing over it. I even said…..wait for it, that I would get rid of the Jeep if that was what I had to do. I know, thats the last thing anyone ever thought they would hear come out of my mouth, well this is the last thing I ever thought would happen too. I keep saying I put cameras up at the house just to make sure no one messes with it. It may or may not be true. You would be so proud of how awesome I back it in to the driveway. I don’t even run over the grass! 🙂 Pulling in forward, well thats a different story, lets just say I’ll get my exercise parking a mile away so I don’t even have to try.
This truck is a symbol of everything you have worked so hard for. When you came home from Iraq in 2007, we were very uncertain of our future. We thought we had it all figured out, and then came the problems, and the pills, and the doctors telling you that you would never be anything other than what you were in that moment, that you did what you went to do, and now its time to just be. Sorry, you married a stubborn woman who doesn’t exactly take no for an answer, so we asked the tough questions, we pushed the limits, and we overcame, so much, together. You wanted nothing more to continue serving, and though that wasn’t in the cards in the way you imagined, we found ways for you to do it, and you found ways to be successful in all that you did. You always put me and the kids first, and never did things for yourself, so this was a big deal, and even though you annoyed the life out of me that day spending like 748394 hours in negotiations with the dealership, I forgive you.
I’m sorry you only got to love your truck for 6 months, but like everything else, you loved her fiercely, and I will do the same.