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.

Copied from Homefront Six

Survivors in Afghanistan Need Immediate Help - 56 Soldiers Lost EVERYTHING


This is legit. This unit is the unit of a friend of mine's husband (that was an awkward sentence). You can read the news story HERE. The entire FOB was destroyed.


Tammy's husband has a first-hand account HERE.


And yes, the Army will cover the basics but the personal items are mostly up to the individual soldiers to take care of - just as it is when they head into theatre. Add to that the fact that these guys just lost eight of their own in one moment and you can imagine how difficult this is for them. To have the support of those of us back here will be a huge morale boost for them.


So please consider sending in a few items. TankerBabe is heading up the coordination and you can email her for a mailing address. The list of what is needed is on the blog post. My kids are currently drawing pictures and writing notes to the guys as well.


Every little bit helps. Thanks.

This homeschooling gig is a piece of cake with props!

Current Events:
See girls, here are some of our souvenirs from Europe. We are going to focus on two items from mommy's combat-shopping/sightseeing bus trip into Eastern Europe.

Here are the Bohemian crystal drinking glasses from the Czech Republic. They are a bit on the fragile side. That is why I keep them on a higher shelf just out of your reach. There is not an impending threat from your little hands, but the potential for damage is there. So, I protect them.

See the pottery from Poland? It was bought on the first leg of the trip so it endured more of the twists and turns and bumpy, hilly roads in the belly of the bus. It is beautiful and while proven quite strong, it can still be damaged. Therefore, we use both hands when carrying it and place it gently into the sink or dishwasher. We protect it and handle it with care.



Tonight for dinner: The Polish fabulousness Pierogies and a discussion on whether we should leave them naked and vulnerable on the plate or cover them with a yummy, protective sauce.

Yes, I changed the layout again...

I bought myself a birthday present. Is that wrong?

A few weeks ago I saw this necklace and in a move most shocking to me, I waited until I had a reason/excuse to buy it.  I had been looking for a mother's necklace but wanted something a little different than the charms with the three girls' birthstones. When I saw this I knew my search was over.

We are finally starting to get settled after the most insane move in history.

We shipped twenty-one crates of household goods and 2 crates of hold baggage from Italy. If that wasn't crazy enough, we also had the 3 crates we had in storage for over 3 years.

Twenty-FREAKIN'-six crates of stuff!!!

Surprisingly, my house is starting to look more like a home and less like a place where cardboard boxes go to die. If I can keep up the momentum, I may have everything unpacked and organized just in time for the next PCS in June. Aye!!

Several years ago at a spouses' group meeting a motivational speaker made the comment that Air Force wives belong to a unique, diverse sisterhood.

I am proud to call this incredible woman one of my sisters. She handled one of the most unimaginably difficult decisions with inspiring, amazing grace.

Everytime I hear the word I cringe. It raises my blood pressure. My nerves are frayed and I break out in cold sweat.

It's PCS.

I know most of my fellow military spouses completely understand. My non-military friends are thinking "first, it's not a word. It's another one of those acronyms you throw out there and I have no idea what it means. Second, it's only three letters."

Trust me. It's a four letter word. Throw an "F" or a "D" in there anywhere if you need to. Goodness knows I do it often enough.

PCS stands for permanent change of station. Which, when you think about it is hilarious because nothing in the military is permanent.

It means complete strangers with varying degrees of personal hygeine and questionable background descend on your house. You happily greet them and stand back as they transform your home into a sea of cardboard boxes.

You spend a small fortune on food and drinks to keep them happy. Happy people are less likely to steal or break your shit.

Happy people are less likely to throw loose silverware into your non-stick pans to rattle around for 5,000 or so miles. Happy people are less likely to pack a full trashcan with your unmentionables.

Sometimes though, all the Big Macs and Cokes in the world are not enough to ensure all of your items make it to your next destination and in the condition you last saw them.

I have thirteen days until this adventure begins...

It is really difficult to put into words just how amazingly beautiful Spring is here.

Pictures help a lot, but it encompasses more than just one of the five senses. I could record the sounds of the birds with the bells tolling in the background to capture that sense. But, it's hard to find the words to describe how it smells.

At least it is for me.

Walking back from dropping her sisters off at the bus stop Taylor stopped, breathed in deeply through her nose, closed her eyes, soaked it all in and then declared "Ahhhhh, it's like a garden party in my nose."

I think that sums it up perfectly.