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This is where it starts to get really, really difficult. I was mostly angry about the Pilot's death until I got to school. Once the word got out, the hugs, kind words, and overwhelming sense of being loved and protected by my school family made me wake up. We're not the only ones to lose family here. Some of my colleagues (and some of you Diarylanders) know exactly how we feel. We're intensely grateful for all the thoughtful guestbook messages you're sending our way. Thank you just seems inadequate. When I got home, a beautiful American flag had appeared on our porch, courtesy of some colleagues with Navy background. It will be flown whenever possible. It's the Pilot's flag, now. We've been told that a memorial service will be held at the base on Friday. The Samurai will fly down before then, to join the Preacher and his wife. I won't be able to go, but you know where my heart will be. The Pilot will be interred at Arlington National Cemetery at a later date, with full military honors. He died doing what he loved. He'll be buried near his mom (and later, his dad), my grandparents, and one of my cousins. He was a Civil War buff, so being on Lee land would make him particularly happy. Now for the hard part. We have to wait for the investigation to be complete before we can bring the Pilot home. Could take months. So far, all we know is that they crashed during a sandstorm, and the men had to be identified "forensically." (No, I am not going to ask for details.) I'd really like to know what happened, but we might never find out. We have to go on without our brother. The kids have to grow up without their dad. Beth has to live without her husband. That's the hardest part. |
 
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