Twenty-seven: Before Thanksgiving

‘Twas the day before Thanksgiving and deep in my heart,

I wasn’t at all thankful, not even a start.

The year and been rough and this week rougher yet,

Not a day had gone by where my cheeks were not wet.

We had a bizarre tragedy strike at the beginning of this week. No one really knows quite what happened. The end result has been clouded eyes, complete upheaval, and whispers of, “but I liked him.” The dust is starting to settle and the rosy view of the future has been shattered. We aren’t quite sure at what to expect, but we’re buckling down to get through, because that’s what we do.

How do you mourn someone who is still alive? Because that’s what we’re doing. They aren’t dead, but we will all probably never seem them again. They’re still alive, but the memory of them is twisted by the final actions that they will be known by, at least here.

I can’t go back and change things. If ever I could, this would top the list. There are so many questions and not many answers right now. And the nature of the job is that they have to keep pushing through.

Today, we as spouses, asked for help. We asked the general community of our base to bring a dessert for our guys who have to work tomorrow. Just a little thing. A little thing to say we care. A little thing to acknowledge that they work 24/7/365. A little thing to say thank you to them for doing this hard job.

Today, the people around me have driven me to tears. So many families, already taxed by cooking for their own squadron, their own family, their own friends; have agree to take care of our airmen too. The responses are as simple as asking when they can drop it off. But it’s overwhelming to know, that here, in the midst of a hard week for all of us, our community can come together and be a blessing.

It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the people I’m surrounded by.

~The Countess~

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About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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2 Responses to Twenty-seven: Before Thanksgiving

  1. Not sure what happened, of course, but this sounds scary & unsettling. Sending love to you & the whole base.

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