My husband and I met online. Funny thing is I messaged him asking him if he was even old enough to be on the site. He did not look old enough at all. We hit it off. I was living about 3 hours away from him. He was in the Marine Corps at the time. Somehow he managed to come see me nearly every weekend. With the exception of the week he went on vacation with his family in Florida. That was something they did every year growing up. I remember him telling his family about me and my children.
We officially met in June. Then married in September. I was the one that insisted no ”shacking up”. This was my first marriage. I had grown up believing that you didn’t shack up. Regardless of that I still shacked up many times. We moved in a rush because my biological father was being a complete ass. We got a house within the next week. We did all the necessary paperwork for us to be put as his dependents under the military guidelines. Pain in the but process and it didn’t come easy. One of his supposed ”leaders” told him he wasn’t ”allowed” to marry me. I understand certain reasons why they would not allow it. But with his reason, it wasn’t warranted. We married anyway. Once his ”leader” found out, well he was NJP’d, for those of you that don’t know the term it means, non-judicial punishment. He got it for ”disobeying a direct order”. This so-called leader of his was a real piece of work. My husband took the punishment and it still didn’t change anything for our marriage. As you can see we are still married.
On November 4th we were heading to base to drop him off for 24 hour duty. His cell phone rang. It was his brother-in-law. His father had passed away. I pulled over in the parking lot. He made some phone calls in order to get emergency leave. His sister had found his father in the bed. He died in his sleep. I never met his father. I met the rest of his family when we went down for the memorial.
Then we go through the holidays. For me and my children it was semi-normal since they were used to growing up celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. As we go into the next year things were still progressing. My husband didn’t talk about his father. He was still grieving.
The evening of January 17th. The phone rings, my husband answered it. It was my step father. He called to tell us that my brother had passed away. I had never been the one to handle death easy at all. My brother was 37 yrs old when he died. He was a recovering drug addict that had just that day gone to a methadone clinic for help but was turned away because he did not have active heroin in his system. He told his best friend to just take him home that he just wanted to lay down and go to sleep. He never made it in the door. My sister-in-law found him about 6 hours later when she came home from work with his dog, Petey on top of him. My sister-in-law ran all the way up the path yelling for my mother and step father yelling out my brother’s name. By her tone my mother and step father knew something was wrong. My step father tried to do CPR while they called 911 but knew from his time in he navy my brother was gone. I never saw my brother again. Not even in the casket. My family didn’t want that to be the last memory I had of my brother. I was surprised how I handled his death.
This all happened within 7 and a half months of my husband and I meeting each other,moving in together, and getting married. Neither one of us really had someone right there with us to lean on for support. His family was three states away. My mother and step father didn’t live in the same county. They lived about 2 and a half to 3 hours away. So we somehow met each other at a time in our lives where we needed each other. Funny how stuff like that happens. I do wish I had met his father. He did meet my brother and spent some time with him, not much but some. Since my brother basically grew up around my biological father we didn’t spend much time together growing up.
My husband is not their biological father but they now call him DAD.