Phil

It's no secret that high school encompassed some of the very best years of my life. One major part of my high school history was the youth group at my church. I attended a small Catholic church on the Air Force Base in my hometown. There weren't many of us in youth group, but we were faithful and there (almost) every Wednesday night. I haven't kept up with most of those people and due to the military lifestyle, very few still remain locally. Thankfully, I have Facebook. I have been able to keep up with (aka stalk) everyone over the years. There is one guy who has always had a special place in  my memories because he was just such a dang good and nice person. He was outgoing and jovial and always smiling. He deserved everything good in life and I had no doubt he would do great things.

Early this morning I received word that he was killed in Afghanistan yesterday.

I have been doing this Army thing for over 4 years and grew up doing the Air Force thing. I have never (thankfully) lost anyone I knew until today. All my brain could think was "NO." What came after was a peculiar sense of devastating sadness and immense gratitude. I am devastated for his mother and his wife (who is coincidentally also named Sarah). I am also devastated for the world, because it is a lesser place without him. Right behind the grief was a persistent thankful feeling: my husband came home. Twice. I suppose I had started to take that fact for granted. This news put that right into perspective.

We lost a wonderful man yesterday. A Marine. A husband. A son. A friend. He was one of the good ones.