grateful to my stepdad for always making me keep a funeral suit in my closet. While I'm grateful to have it, I’m completely heartbroken that I have to wear it today.
Standing at the graveside watching my best friend, Jason, be lowered to the ground as a 21-gun salute goes off in Arlington National Cemetery, I feel like I can't breathe. This man should be here with his wife. They are getting ready to have a child. Instead, he lost his life on his most recent deployment. Now his wife, River, is a military widow and getting ready to raise a child on her own.
If it weren't for the promise that I made him before our first deployment together, she would have absolutely no one in the world because she has no family. But I pledged to him I would take care of her if anything were to ever happen to him. That's a promise I intend to keep.
So, as I stand beside her and offer her some support as we bury her husband. At the same time, trying not to let my grief overtake me. I'm making plans to bring River back to my cabin in Whiskey River, Montana.
When I look over at River, tears are running down her face, but she's not actively sobbing. Other than the tears, her face is void of emotion. I can't imagine what's running through her mind, nor what she must be going through right now. I just hope that I can take some of the stress off her plate and do right by my best friend.
As the ceremony finishes and everyone heads out, they say goodbye to River and try to offer some words that they think will help. I stay at her side until the last person is gone. Thankfully, no one will gather back at her place and try to make small talk and fill her freezer with food.
The ceremony itself was a carefully designed performance. It was absolutely beautiful, and completely choreographed. The men and women who helped lay my friend to rest will forever hold my gratitude.
"We can sit here for as long as you like," I tell her once everyone's gone as she stares at the casket holding her husband.
She doesn't say a word. Then a moment later, she stands and walks over to the black iron stake that has his name on it temporarily until the gravestone arrives and places a hand on it.
"After the baby's born, I'd like to come back to see the headstone and introduce him to his child," she says after a moment.
"I will make that happen. As soon as the doctor clears you and your child to fly, I will bring you out here for a few days." I tell her already making plans in my head. Anything to keep my mind off the reality of the situation right now.
She nods her head and doesn't have to ask anything more because she knows my word is as good as gold. It always has been. She also knows the promise that I made to her husband now extends to her. If this is what she needs to help get her through this dark period in her life, then I'll make sure she has it.
"I'll give you a few minutes. If you need anything, I'll be just down the row at the road. I'll be in earshot," I say. Then I leave to give her some privacy.
I wait by the road, and she joins me a few minutes later.
"Let's go home," she says. But then gives a bitter laugh. "I guess it's not really home. Not when the military can kick you out so soon after your husband dies for his country."
I don't say anything because I completely agree with her. She and Jason lived on base in military housing while he served with the United States Marines. Most young couples do because they don't have to pay rent or utilities or any maintenance on the place. Plus, your neighbors are other military families. Single guys like me ended up in the barracks, which weren't too bad, but I would definitely take Jason's place over sharing a room with another guy any day.
Once Jason was killed in action, they served her with a thirty-day notice to be out of military housing. She doesn't even get time to grieve. Instead, she has to pack up and figure out what to do with her entire life. I tried to get her more time, but all they could say was their hands were tied because there was a waitlist of families that needed the house.
Thankfully, she has a place to go. She can move back in with me. Though it didn't take much convincing to get her to agree. I think she's ready to put away all the bad memories this place now holds.
"You'll make a new home. One that no one can take away from you, one that your child will have all their firsts in, and one that you will be happy in," I tell her as I open the truck door for her and wait until she is settled.
Without saying anything else, she buckles up and stares straight ahead. I close the car door, take a deep breath, and walk around to get into Jason's truck that we drove today. She's selling the truck and wanted to take one last ride in it. As much as I didn't want to drive my friend's truck, I wouldn't deny her this either.
Once we get back to her house on base, she stands there and looks around at everything. Nothing's been touched, and the only signs that she's moving are the stack of boxes, bubble wrap, and tape in the corner that we will use for packing.
"We can sell all the furniture. The only thing that I want to keep is the crib that Jason picked out and delivered right after he found out we were expecting. It's still in the box, so it should be easy to pack in the truck," she says, standing in the entryway.
"We can bring everything with us if you want, and you can decide later. There's a storage unit in town, and I've already called and reserved three of their biggest units. I also think you should reconsider and bring Jason's truck and sell your car. The truck is going to be more useful in Montana, and it's not too late for me to get a car tow, so you don't have to drive it the whole way there."
It's a conversation that completely avoids the funeral we just attended, but at the same time talks about all the work we have ahead of us.
"I'll think about it. When would you have to call the moving company to add on the car tow?"
"I already reserved one, so it'll be there. If you don't need it, we can always take it off the reservation."
She nods with a small smile. "You're just like him, you know. Always planning ahead and one step ahead of me."
She sets her stuff down and goes to the kitchen.
"What would you like for dinner?" She asks me without even looking at me.
"How about you let me worry about dinner? Go change out of that dress and maybe run a bath. Take the night off tonight and just be. We can dive into all this again tomorrow," I tell her.
Nodding, she closes the refrigerator and slips out of her heels that she's wearing.
"Would you mind starting on Jason's office tonight? I can't bring myself to go in there. But I know the paperwork that I need to file for benefits is in there, and who knows what else. To be honest, I'm not even sure what I'm looking for."
River and Jason were one of the lucky few to get a two-bedroom military home without having a child. So, Jason used the second bedroom as an office with the intention of turning it into the baby's nursery when he returned home from deployment.
When he called me to tell me that River was pregnant, his mind was racing. He was so excited and listed off everything he planned to do as soon as he got home. My eyes burn as I remember that phone call. I have to look up at the ceiling, so the tears don't start to fall.
I can't cry in front of River. I have to be the strong one for her.
"Yeah, I can do that as long as you promise you'll relax tonight. These last few days have been plenty stressful on you, and you need to think about the baby."
Agreeing with me, she grabs a bottle of water and heads back to her room. I know jack shit about babies and pregnancy. In fact, the most experience I have is visiting the hospital after my friend Bennett and his wife Willow had their child. It was just a few days after I got the call about Jason being killed in action.
When I told my friends that I'd be bringing River home with me, it was my friend Axel's wife, Emelie who told me that stress was bad for the baby. She said to try to alleviate as much stress from her as possible over the process. So that's my goal, to take on as much of the burden as I can so that River can relax.
Removing my suit jacket and unbuttoning the sleeves of the shirt I was wearing underneath it, I go into the kitchen. Finding everything I need to make chicken parmesan for dinner, I get to work.
I can't let my mind wander off to my buddy again and what happened today, so I start making a list of everything that needs to be done. Top priority is to find the paperwork that she needs so that she can file for her benefits as soon as we get back to Whiskey River.
Through the military, she and her child will have health insurance. In addition, her child will have education benefits, and they will also get a very hefty life insurance policy of $500,000. The only downside is all the paperwork that has to be done.
Since she'll keep her medical coverage, all her doctor's visits for this pregnancy will be taken care of, but she probably won't see the life insurance money until around the time the baby is born. It will take some time for the paperwork to be approved and when they actually issue her the money.
On top of that, her child has Social Security benefits, and there are a whole other slew of things that need to be addressed.
Over dinner, neither one of us really talks about anything substantial.
"We can get rid of the dishes and the pots and pans since you'll have some of that at your house. Feel free to take any kitchen stuff that you need." She taps her fork against her plate.
"Are you sure you don't want to pack it up and bring it with us? You'll need something when you start over."
"Every item in this house holds a memory. Of course, there are things I'll take with me, but I need to start over if I'm going to be able to put one foot in front of the other and raise our child. I can't be assaulted with a memory of Jason everywhere I turn, or I'll never be able to get out of bed." She looks up at me, and her eyes are pleading with me to understand.
There are fresh, unshed tears in her eyes. It’s obvious that she was crying in the bath that she took as I was making dinner. But hell, she knows there's not anything I wouldn't do for her right now.
"As you wish. When you're ready, I will make sure that you have everything that you need." Again, she just nods, knowing there's no use in fighting me for it.
After dinner, she helps by drying the dishes and putting them away since I'm still not quite sure where everything goes. Ask me where one of Jason's tools is, and I can grab it for you no problem. But of all the time that I was in this house, I avoided the kitchen because that was River's domain.
"I think I'm going to go to bed. Exhaustion hit me really hard, and I'd really like to just put today behind me." She tells me once the last dish is put away.
"Go get some sleep. I know your whole world has been turned upside down, but as long as I'm here, you're safe. I will make sure of it."
Again, she doesn't say anything. Then, hesitating, she turns to me, and the next thing I know, she's wrapping her arms around my waist for a hug. This isn't something that we do. I think the only time I have ever hugged this woman was when Jason and I came home from our first deployment, and I was just so damn excited to see someone other than Jason.
Gently, I wrap my arms around her. She's so tiny, barely five feet four to my six feet two inches. After a moment, she pulls away, and I'm left standing there wondering what the hell happened.
I've known this woman for five years now, and I've never seen her as anything more than a little sister and my best friend's wife. So why the hell am I hard as nails from just a hug?