Five Hundred and Twenty Five

Today marks 525 days since Chad left this earth.  Honestly, some days it feels like yesterday and other days it feels like forever.  There are times when I relive the evening of December 1, 2010 over and over in my head.
Tebo and I had been at work that day.  I had actually even written Chad a letter through Motto Mail that very morning.  I had actually been trying to reach Katie all afternoon to check on her and I didn't get a response from my text messages or phone calls and at first I was worried that she wasn't feeling well or something, but also thought she might just be staying busy.  Tebo and I were heading home after work and I mentioned to him that I hadn't been able to get her so I tried calling her again and still no answer.  Well, we stopped for a sandwich and I stayed in the car and she called me back.  She was terribly upset and I immediately asked if Chad was ok.  She was very vague in her response, but wouldn't say anything (she wasn't suppose to).  Then she asked if we were home and I said not yet, but we were close.  She wanted to talk to Tebo so I handed him the phone.  We got home and before we got to our subdivision I asked him to slow down.  He asked why and I said I have a bad feeling and I'm not ready to be home yet.  He slowed down and we walked in the house.  Just as we got home Katie called or I called her back (I can't remember now) and about that time the doorbell rang.  I looked up at Tebo and said is it the Marine Corps.  He said yes babe.  I said are they in uniform, he said yes babe.  I said please don't let them in, I don't want to hear what they have to say.  He said, we have to babe.  They walked in dressed in their dress blues and when they told us they regretted to inform us that my son, CPL Chad S Wade had been killed in the line of duty.  I just felt like someone kicked me in my stomach and I felt sick and weak.  I know I cried out and probably very loudly.  Then I told Tebo we had to go and tell daddy.  It was a Wednesday night so I assumed he was at church, but this wasn't something I could tell him on the phone.  Tebo, of course, immediately said ok and we got in the truck to head over to OK to tell daddy.  It was heartbreaking.  The last thing I ever wanted to do is tell BoBo that Chad wasn't coming home alive.  Chad was his main buddy and they were so close.  Chad was always worried about BoBo and making sure he was ok while he was gone.  If I could have only taken care of Chad while he was gone.
How do you continue on when the one thing that has been the most important part of your life and the one great thing you've ever done is just gone.  Just like that!  Just gone!  I have an amazing husband, wonderful bonus kids, and a fantastic family and set of friends, but the one most important person in my life is no longer here and there was nothing I could do to protect him. 
I did not know how I could go on even one more day, let alone making it through the first 525 days without him, but I have.  I don't really feel like I am living a full life, but I'm living.  That's pretty much all I can promise right now.
I have days when I don't cry all day, but I've yet to have one day that I don't shed at least one tear.  I don't ever wake up in the night without him being the first thing on my mind.  I don't know if that will ever change, but for now, that's just what it is.
I tend to do most of my crying when I'm alone (and I like it that way) and I've only had two episodes when I was crying and just had to scream and again, thank goodness I was alone, because I imagine that would have been pretty scary for someone to hear.  It's just that sometimes you don't know what else to do, but scream. 
Yes, I've made it 525 days, but I make no promises on how many more I can make it through or how graciously I can do it.  I try, but some days it truly feels like I am still walking in a heavy fog with very little to no direction. 
We have a family reunion for my daddy's side of the family this weekend in Memphis.  The last family reunion I attended was right before Chad left for boot camp.  I've had a hard time struggling with how I will feel being there and seeing all our family and having such a missing link, but I know I need to go and I know we will have a great time once we are there.  It's just the anticipation of it all I suppose.  I do have a great family and there are a lot of us around and we all love each other so much so I know we will be embarrassed and loved on so that isn't the issue.  It's just a memory thing for me.  I have a picture of Chad from the last family reunion that has been at my desk since I had it printed and it's one of my favorites, because he is wearing his favorite TN t-shirt and his Braves hat.  It's bittersweet to see his pictures, but I can't imagine not having them to look at and hold on to.  This year we will have new pictures, but they won't be the same as that last time Chad was there with us.  I just miss my baby boy so badly that my heart aches and there really isn't anything anyone can do or say to ease that pain.  I know if you have lost a child you understand that kind of pain.  It's just not something you can really describe so that people truly understand the magnitude of the hurt.  I can imagine that one day that pain may lessen a bit, but it will always and forever be there.  I can hear a song on the radio or my iPod that will immediately make me think of him or remind me of him whether it be a sappy song or a funny song and the tears will immediately start flowing.  I could be at my desk in the office or in the car or sitting watching TV at home.  It really is no respecter of where I am or who I'm with when it hits.  I do struggle some with showing that emotion outwardly (especially at work), but the harder I try to fight it the harder it pushes back.
Daddy and I have this thing we do when I get upset or just need to talk.  He use to have a barn behind his house and we would take a walk to the barn and talk out there while he messed with the horses.  Since I'm not right there and can't literally take a walk to the barn, I will just call him and say "I need a walk to the barn" and he will stop whatever he is doing at the time and just listen.  I did that not long ago as a matter of fact.  I was having a very emotional day for some reason and I just couldn't get my crap together.  I took a break from my desk and called him and said I need a walk to the barn.  Boy, the minute he said ok babe let me walk over here the tears started flowing and I could barely speak.  He just let me cry and talk and never said a word.  Once we were done he said I don't think I helped much and I said more than you will ever know daddy.  He really did help.  The next day was much better.  I hate to get too upset with him, because I'm still in the "protecting mode" with him, but some days I just have to let go with him and share my heart and apparently my tears (and lots of them). 
I know God has a plan for our lives and I know taking Chad was part of his plan.  I don't agree with it and certainly don't like it, but turns out I didn't really get a say in his plan.  I do believe God took him to spare him from something far worst, but it is so hard for this fleshy heart to just accept that and go on.  It's hard to go on in this world with half a heart.  That's exactly what it feels like.  For 22 1/2 years he was it for me and now I visit his headstone and have my quiet time with him and that just isn't right.  It's not suppose to be that way, but it is and I'm sure eventually I will figure out how to feel "normal" in this very un-normal life I find myself in.

The last "Croft" family reunion in his favorite t-shirt

BoBo giving his boy a kiss (all the time)

When our family came together

It shouldn't be this way...