In my 16 years of being affiliated with the Air Force (first as a civilian and then as a wife) I have been no stranger to the tragedy of the loss of service members and/or their family members. I have attended and assisted in numerous memorial services and funerals. Some because of my position in public affairs and later Services, but more because of my "duty" as the wife of a husband in command positions.

Each one was tragic and heart wrenching in its own right. Each had an impact on me. A military base is a tight-knit community of course a loss leaves a pit in your stomach.

For better or worse, the pain heals and the community gets back to normal. The loss becomes a distant memory for most.

That has been true for me, with the exception of the last memorial service attended and the aftermath of the accident.

Nearly two years later, rarely more than a day or two go by that it doesn't cross my mind.

I don't mean to sound like the other losses don't matter or register with me, they do. I think it is just that the last one felt so personal.

Husband was deployed at the time, so even though the Maintenance Group lost three members technically I could have been uninvolved without any guilt. Those who know me, know that is not my nature, though.

As hard as a loss for the group was, it was much more personal. Two friends lost their husbands. I knew the wives better than the husbands, but still...

Maybe it was the fact that both wives had endured deployed to dangerous areas and their husbands had returned safely. Maybe it was the fact that is was an incentive flight, a reenlistment , a happy day. Maybe it was because children - one not yet born - lost fathers. Maybe it was because the row in front of me was entirely comprised of Italian MedEvac pilots and paramedics who tended to the casualties. 

As I said, military communities are tight. Overseas that seem even truer. It's not as if Liz, Meka and I were the best of friends hanging out constantly. But I did consider them friends.

I met Meka during our first weeks at Aviano. We were on the Bienvenuti tour together as she carted then 6-week-old Christian around all day in the Baby Bjorn. He was such a good baby with the smoothest skin and fuzzy little head. I so wanted to smooch his little cheeks several times that day. Not wanting to be overbearing, I resisted the urge and just admired him all snuggled up.

A couple of weeks later at Spouse It Up I got the chance to nuzzle his little head and the next day with Meka as my guest at the AOCSC luncheon, I got to get my hands on him and cuddle him. Taylor was at the point of asserting toddler independence so I treasured the snuggly baby time with him. Fortunately, Meka indulged me whenever I would see her. Later, her older son and the bigs were in swim lessons together and the friendship grew.

I was just as taken with Meka as I was Christian. She is tall (who isn't to me), incredibly poised and so self-assured. She reminded me a lot of The Friend in Maryland, Miss Auntie. It was clear she took no crap and I admired that. Brand new to Italy and with very little command of the language I was incredibly intimidated. Not her. She is clearly comfortable in her own skin. Though younger than I, I want to be her when I grow up.

Liz and I met when we were both on the bazaar committee. Her husband was the commander of a small Army aviation group stationed on the Air Force Base. I admired the fact that she just jumped right in and got involved on base even though it wasn't their branch of service. In addition to the bazaar committee, she was also the president of the Protestant Women of the Chapel (PWOC).

You just couldn't help but like Liz immediately. She was poised, gracefully and her kind heart was evident. She was genuinely nice. Not the "is she really that nice" nice. Geniunely, honestly nice.

I didn't know her as long as I had known Meka. But the second call I received about the crash identified that her husband, Christian, was the pilot. My heart immediatly went out to her. There were very little details in the first few hours following the crash other than he initially had survived the crash, but was in critical condition in Padova. Another friend's husband, fluent in Italian, happened to be near the hospital and met her at the hospital.

The PWOC organized an impromptu prayer group very soon after the crash. I was the Catholic interloper. There were conflicting reports on whether or not Meka's (an active PWOC member) husband, Cartize, was on board, but prayers were said nonetheless. It was during that meeting that I received a phone call informing me of the death of two maintainers and the critical condition of another.

There are hundreds of members of the 31st MXS, the squadron the casualties were assigned to.  I knew they were covered and was told by their spouse rep they needed no other support. Since the small Army unit had lost their commander, his second in command who was the co-pilot and had another member in critical condition, I decided to ask the other squadrons in the group to help them out. The 31st MOS and especially the 31st AMXS came through with flying colors and I was never prouder to be maintainer's wife.

I think most military wives often wonder how they would react upon hearing that horrific news. I know I have. Obviously, you can't know that and no two wives react the same.

The first time I saw Liz after the accident I was dropping off some of their close family friends I had picked up at the airport and helped them in with their stuff. After greeting them, Liz was wearing lounge pants and what I can only imagine was one of Christian's sweatshirts - the way I think I would react if I could even drag myself out of bed. She fixed her eyes on mine and with a unique combination of vulnerability, courage and grace gave me one of the most sincere "thank yous" I have ever received. It was certainly unnecessary. It was an honor and pleasure.

And, that is why it still matters.