Hello, I'm in Delaware

One month. I've officially been a widow (still hate that word) for one month. This week has been rough. The day before yesterday, some more of his stuff came home. The stuff that was on him when the accident happened (the only stuff I'd gotten before was "sentimental" stuff - tags/jewelry - but everything at this point is sentimental). The items included his cards (humvee license, coach's certificate, etc), money he had on him, little red light I bought for him before he left - literally a few hours before he left, some papers he had (one being a note I'd written him before he left, he had been carrying it with him, I didn't know that...), and... the memory card from the camera. I couldn't get the camera itself back because it'd been broken too badly to be scanned by the people who go through his stuff before I get it - JPED - but the card was in working condition and so I got it. Of course, I went through it. There were lots of pictures and it was nice seeing him as he was over there. It'd been so long since I'd seen him. We had webcammed a couple times before he got into the nitty-gritty of Afghanistan but it had been months since I'd seen him, so it was both good and heart breaking to look at these photos. It was good to see his face, to see he was still smiling over there, but heartbreaking for obvious reasons... and to know he will never be able to explain some of the photos to me. Like why there were tons of pictures of mud... Really Jonny, was the mud that astounding that you had to take 5 pictures of it?? Ha. Then, we got to the day... 14 March 2010. There were pictures from that day. My chest tightened as I looked through them but I forced myself to finish. Then the last picture. The last picture my babe has ever, will ever, take. Quite possibly the last thing he saw. A slight nervous breakdown occurred after and I decided I just don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to be a widow, I don't want to be receiving his stuff without him, I don't want to be sad, I don't want to. But, the fact of the matter is I don't have a choice. I have to. And I have to remember, I'm not doing it without him. He's right here with me every step of the way. Even when it doesn't feel like it, I don't doubt that he's somewhere close at hand, he can feel when I need him, and he's there. I have to say I have amazing friends (once again) who held me through this, who made me look up, made me look at my little girl and assured me that I can and that I am going to do this. It will never go away, it's not a matter of "getting through" it's a matter of surviving. Each day, every day. I can, and I am.

Earlier that day I received a text message from my mom that simply said "You got a package from Jonny today." Had I gotten that message a month ago, I would have been so excited, said FINALLY, and told her to send it. There would not have been any other feeling beside excitement. This time, though, my heart sunk. I'm still excited and happy to have it, but reading those words, knowing that it's not something he just sent, was hard. It's like my heart had a small leap at first... from Jonny? And then was like... Oh yeah... mail takes a while, from Jonny... before... I am still excited to get it here, but it's a different kind of excitement. I'm not sure if there's anything else in it, but I know the one thing in there is a cassette tape, we'd been sending each other tapes, he took his time filling one up and had told me a couple weeks before the accident that he had finally filled it up and would be putting it in the mail. This excitement is more a thirst to hear his voice than general excitement. And I'm scared. Not of the content, just of how my heart will be taking it. How am I going to hear, in his voice, promises of coming home? How am I going to listen to him so hopeful and healthy and alive without losing it? The one thing I've learned though, is that sometimes, it's ok to lose it. I don't have to be Mrs. Strength 100% of the time. It's ok if I am sad or angry or just having a day. Like today, just having a day.

If you are wondering, I am not in Delaware. The title actually refers to a song a friend from high school introduced me to. I'm going to take a moment now to post a few songs I've been listening to today. Whether they've helped or made me sadder, I'm not sure. What I do know is that some of them can say what I feel without me having to say it.

Dallas Green, Hello I'm in Delaware (this one hit close to home not only because of the lyrics but the title - Jonny flew in to Dover AFB in Delaware, so it was pretty profound to me)


Lady Antebellum, Never Alone (I can only imagine him saying many of these things to me)


Death Cab for Cutie, I Will Follow You Into The Dark (Heaven will be holding his hand once again)


Shelly Fabares, Jonny Angel (I've always been into Oldies, and after the funeral I had this stuck in my head. I know the song has nothing to do with funerals or Angels or anything like that, but it was stuck in my head. It came on 50s on 5 the other day when my friend and I were cleaning and she kinda froze and looked at me - she'd never heard it - and I was like ...Yup.)


Lady Gaga, Bad Romance (The last song we listened to on the way to deployment, broke up the sadness of what we were about to do, still breaks up the sadness for me)


Of course there are more songs that remind me of him, that I use to deal with things... etc. But these are just the songs for today. Also, I want to apologize for being crappy with writing comments, honestly I'm not reading much these days, it's hard for me, and as amazing as you all have been I'm sure you understand but I didn't want you to think I didn't love you all anymore!

Semper Fi,