A very long time ago, in a time that seems like another lifetime altogether, I was married to my first husband. We had been high school sweethearts and married in late Summer of 1995.
He had military aspirations and had joined the National Guard. It wasn’t long before he got on full-time with the local guard unit, which then became the center of our lives.
Everyone knew everyone. Our kids all played together. Anyone could just show up anytime at any of our doors, and no one would have asked any questions. Suffice it to say, we were a tight-knit group.
Even after separating from him in 2001, a year in which everything changed for this nation, I still remained friends with many from my old group. Life moved on, and I eventually got into another relationship, but I still kept up with them, as much as I possibly could.
One morning in 2005, while dropping my kiddo off at school, I saw one of the wives with whom I had been particularly chummy. We smiled and waved at each other. It briefly crossed my mind to get out and talk – her husband had been deployed, and I wanted to catch up with her.
“Later!” I thought, as she got into her car, and I drove on by. After all, life moves fast, and we all have a plethora of things to do at any given time.
Just a day or two later, my phone rang.
It was another friend – the wife of another Guardsman – and she was in tears.
The CH-47 helicopter carrying two of our local soldiers had been shot down in Afghanistan. One of those soldiers was the husband of that friend I’d just seen only days before.
The idea of being widowed at our age seemed like such an impossibility! I know it’s not – I now know of widows younger than she was – but it’s just not something you think about when you are young and feel so infallible.
Years and years have passed, and even though I fell out of touch with nearly everyone from those days, I still catch myself thinking about seeing her that day, having no idea that tragedy was about to strike.
I wish I would have talked to her that day, but I know it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference in how things were about to turn out.
Life is beautiful, but it can be over so fast.
Let your loved ones know you care when you have the chance. You never know just how much love and support they may be about to need.
—
A heartfelt thank you to those who are serving or have served our country and to their families who very much serve with them.
—
—
Image via BingAI
About Layla Beth Munk
Layla Beth Munk is a blogger & author who was thrust into this widowhood journey abruptly and tragically on February 11, 2018. Her husband of 12 years had ended his pain once and for all. She soon made the decision that she would not let his final decision define the rest of her life or their daughter’s life, so with her sense of humor at the helm, she started writing about her newfound station in life. Grief waves still get to her, and probably always will, but with the help of her fellow widows as well as friends and family, she has been able to realize her dream of becoming a published author! Layla is so grateful to Hope For Widows Foundation for providing this level of support to her, and so many others! Layla has two amazing children, one who is grown and one who is almost grown. She lives in eastern Oregon and has a wellness & beauty background. Layla enjoys writing poetry, watching anime, and homeschooling her daughter.
Her blog can be found at laylabethmunk.medium.com and her debut novella, 24 Hours in Vegas, is available on Amazon.