I'm Way Too Emotional, I Know.

*Disclaimer* I'm sad. I'm going to ramble. The more I write, the more I cry. I need this though.

I don't know what exactly is going on. If this is petty, so be it. I don't mean for it to be. A lot of people have MUCH bigger problems in their lives, and I know that. But right now, I'm sad and I feel helpless. I need to vent, and then probably go cry for a while. Then maybe I'll feel a little better. I think I just need to let it all out. If you don't want to read this. Don't. It's probably going to be depressing, but that's how I feel, and this is the only outlet where I can let it all out my way.

I didn't always live in Jerome. I didn't want to move there in 8th grade. I liked my friends in Utah, I liked my life, and I was in those early teenage years where the change was going to be the end of my life as I knew it. And then to move to this itty bitty dairy town... blah! Not cool. We lived on the outskirts and I hated it for a long time. I missed my friends (horribly) for what felt like an eternity. And all of a sudden (I don't remember why or how) I loved it. I loved knowing almost everyone in my class. I loved being a part of something so family like and close knit. Not until my adult life, did I realize the impact this little town had on me. And this month, I miss it. I am missing out on letting this town know what it means to me. I feel like I'm letting them down.  

Like I said in my last post, a classmate of mine was killed in Afghanistan last weekend. He was a friend. A nice kid to everyone, no matter your popularity, looks, intelligence, athletic ability, talent... he was nice to you. Almost everyone considered him a friend. He wasn't my best friend, by any means. I never dated him. Come to think of it, I never really even "hung out" with him. But when you're from a small town, with a graduating class of under 300 students, where you go to the football games because if you don't, there's not really anything else going on that night, something like this stings.

A soldier who is killed in the war is devastating. Then add in these factors:
+ I knew the nice kid from high school = more sad and makes this 9 year war SO real and personal.
+ He was supposed to come home in THREE weeks = so close and yet too far.
+ He was married = I can't imagine losing my husband.
+ He had 3 month old twin girls = Poor, sweet, innocent girls.
+ He never got to meet them = How is that even fair? Seriously?

This is more than just a sad story to me. This is where I grew up. It's the one place (I've lived in many) that I consider my home town. I knew this person. I liked this person. And I'm too far away to tell anyone that knows him better than me, that I am SO sorry for their loss. If I am this upset over this, can you imagine his wife?? His family? His CLOSE friends? Other military families we went to school with who live in fear of this everytime their spouse is deployed? It breaks my heart into a million pieces every. single. time I think about it. Which is a lot lately.

I want to go to his funeral. I need to go. I feel like I need to cry with my hometown friends who understand and are feeling the same way. I want to be there to support this hero that I knew, and those that knew him so much better than I did. To let people know that I am so incredibly grateful for the sacrifices that our military (and their families and friends) make for this country. We take it for granted entirely too often.

I can't be there. And I feel like everytime I reason why, its not an acceptable reason and I cry again. The funeral is at 4:00 on Saturday, April 7th. David's birthday is on April 8th. (Easter Sunday) It's his 30th birthday and we've planned a big bbq for Saturday... I can't be gone. We can't ask friends with kids to come to our house on Easter Sunday for a birthday party and take them away from their family.

David is an incredible person. He's sad for this soldier and his family and friends. He doesn't like seeing me upset and in this funk. I try to pull out of it and act like I'm okay. He was totally okay with me going. He understood and was supportive. When we found out when it was he told me he's sorry that I'm not going (more than once). I don't want him to be sorry. It's no one's fault. It's my husband's birthday and I want to be with him. I choose him (and my children) over anything. It's just life getting in the way. Blah!

For any of my friends that read this: Know that I will be there in spirit. I will be thinking of Dan and his loved ones. I will have his friends, his wife and beautiful baby girls, the rest his family and my friends in my thoughts and prayers and be thinking of all of you on Saturday.