Thursday night I was surfing Facebook and getting ready to go to bed when I saw that a close friend of my husband's post mentioned something about the support from her friends and the light of her husband shining on. My stomach dropped and I immediately clicked on her page to find multiple posts of support from her friends mentioning the loss of her husband. Once it sank in I couldn't hold back the sobs for her - they continued for at least 20 minutes. Such a horrible loss just knocked the wind out of me, all I could think about was how much pain she must be in.

After crying until I couldn't cry anymore, some investigation of her friends' walls revealed that he was killed in a car crash. A car crash. You expect it during the numerous deployments but a car crash just seems so senseless. The other driver was going the wrong way in his lane and hit him head on, killing himself and our friend. He died at 31 years old, leaving his wonderful wife behind, a widow. He was a former Marine and was working up to deploy to Afghanistan with the National Guard as a Blackhawk pilot, but he was taken by a car crash.

Then I realized that my husband might stumble on the information that one of his very close friends was gone via Facebook and I couldn't handle him finding out that way. I sent out the "CALL ME IMMEDIATELY" email and prayed he would get it soon, then went to bed to futilely attempt some sleep. Thankfully he did receive it and called me at about 2:45am my time. I had to break the news over the static ridden phone line and not being able to actually be there for him was almost as gut wrenching as finding out. I know he's hurting and there just isn't anything I can do about it except support him through words, which are never enough. I'd give just about anything to just have 20 minutes to hug him and be there next to him right now.

My husband said something at one point in the conversation that really stuck with me. He said "I can't imagine what {his wife} is going through." I literally couldn't speak. All I could think was, "I have imagined it. Over and over. Every time you deploy." I couldn't say that to him, but I couldn't say anything else either. I just tried to choke back the sobs and be present for him once I'd finally recovered. I don't know that I helped much, but I hope he knows how very much I love him and am hurting for him right now.