Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
We didn’t get to grow old together. I didn’t get to hold his hand even one more time. I was six months pregnant when Jonah died. As he came off the plane, his basic box covered in an American flag, I stood there and watched. I followed the soldiers carrying him in and stayed beside him as long as they allowed.
Once he was at the funeral home, they offered to let me see him. I declined as the commander said his body had been badly mutilated and then burned. Instead, I was handed his dog tags and given privacy with the box. It wasn’t a basic box, it was a casket, but he wasn’t supposed to return to me contained. For a moment I was tempted to open it. To hold his hand, touch his face. Being pregnant and having vivid dreams as it was, I decided against it. The funeral home was kind enough to let me sleep on the floor beside his box that night. I had decisions to make. Decisions I wanted to make with Jonah. I sat on the carpet of their visitation room with my husband in a white casket on the floor in front of me. I laid my head on that casket and whispered all my questions.
In my heart, I wasn’t sure I could or would stay in North Carolina. I wasn’t sure what I would decide for home. The only thing I knew was wherever I went it was home for Jonah. I wouldn’t be apart from him. That night I decided to cremate Jonah. His urn chosen the next morning; things fell into place. Two days later, his memorial service was held. After the presentation of his flag, the urn was placed in my hands to come home. Holding him against my belly, as close as I could get him to our unborn child, I decided I would stay in North Carolina. Our baby would know the life of a soldier as best as I could give it to him. He would know his daddy died a hero and the pride everyone hear feels to be an American and to be part of the United States Army. Like our wedding, I would raise our son with respect for the service his dad so proudly did.
I gave birth in a blur.
I spent a year of life in a sleep deprived fog tied in with a whole bunch of grief with all the emotions alongside it. Brett was always stopping by or calling just to check in. At the hardest of days, he would pop up. Friendship blossomed as best as anyone can under a cloud of loss.
As the day-to-day struggles seemed to clear I knew I had to leave the small two-bedroom home we had shared with Jonah. The memories suffocated me. The plans and dreams that were no longer even something to hope for consumed my thoughts. It wasn’t healthy. I knew then it was time to move.
Finally, Justice was on a schedule of sorts and my hormones seemed to level out where I wasn’t drowning in post-partum blues. That is when I put the offer in on this new construction home. It was everything Jonah and I dreamed of having together. Even if I never have the other children to fill these rooms, I am giving Justice the space his father always wanted him to have. After closing, I knew I wanted a fence first.
I needed a fence for privacy when Justice played in the backyard. Brett gave me the most reasonable bid compared to many others who it felt like they saw a single mom to screw over. His career in the Army ended due the traumatic brain injury he endured in the ambush, but he says he can’t simply sit at home. The same time I needed a fence; he started a fence company. Do I find that convenient now? Yes, but then, I didn’t see things clearly.
While most days he is okay, there are side effects to his cognizance, his motor skills aren’t precise, and the night terrors are a struggle as they pop up pretty regularly. Not wanting to sit at home waiting for the next checkup, he started a fencing company, that is what he claims even now. I was one of his first clients. Weeks passed and the fence turned out beautiful. It wasn’t until months later when the house next door was built, and they hired him to do their fence that he asked me out as an actual date. Not something to do for my son or in remembrance of my dead husband, he wanted to get to know me.
It was awkward.
I think he knew I wasn’t in a place to even be myself. He asked me to be friends. He took time to get to know me with zero romantic pressure. Days passed into weeks into months and suddenly Justice has his second birthday. Brett shows up building a full-on balloon arch, buys a blow-up water slide, and proceeds to give my son the most amazing day. I don’t know the exact moment things went from friends to more than, but they did. Just like grieving my dead husband was a blur, my romance with Brett is too.