It got worse from there, too. Not only were four more of our soldiers dead, they were soldiers with wives and kids -- soldiers I knew; soldiers my husband worked with side by side every single day. And it wasn't just kids ... it is kids they never even met. Little tiny babies without a daddy anymore.
And so for the last few days I've been caught in a spiral where I pretty much ran around in a bit of a blur doing my errands and cried. A lot. I cried in the car. I cried in my bed. I cried in my friends' houses.
I don't think I've cried that much in that short of a period of time in a long, long time.
It wasn't that I was even crying for me. My heart felt like it was going to just fall out my chest ... it hurt so much for my friends and their daddyless babies. It hurt for my husband who lost his boss and friend and is in a far away place where I cannot comfort or help him.
And then this afternoon I dropped Dave off at a friend's house (I cried on the way there) and drove to the spa (I cried on the way there, too) to use the hefty gift certificate Luke gave me for our anniversary. I was massaged and wrapped and rubbed and lotioned ... and I took a great, warm relaxed nap.
When I woke up I no longer felt like crying.
Next week is in the memorial service for the first group of guys and I am planning on attending.
Now I am praying that no more of those emails hit my inbox -- that not one more of our guys will die over that and that Luke will come home. Soon.