Saturday, May 26, 2012


Technically Chad's 24th birthday was yesterday, but here I am, still up at 2:21 in the morning just wanting to sleep all of this away. I will share photos and details of how I spent this day celebrating him, but for now, I just need to cry.

I'm crying because this is so fucking unfair. Why am I sitting here along celebrating the 2nd birthday my husband isn't here? I don't want it to be today. I want it to be 3 years ago when I celebrated Chads birthday with him. My living and breathing Chad. The Chad that was sitting next to me on our tiny love seat in our tiny house on base, eating sticky chicken. I want to go back to that birthday, not this one.

I'm crying because I am angry and completely heartbroken. He deserved all the birthdays in the world. We were suppose to celebrate years and years of life. We were suppose to grow old together and die together. This isn't the way it's suppose to be, the way it should be.

Why?!? Why did this have to happen? Why does my husband have to be buried in the ground? Why do I have to have the title of a widow? It's so incredibly unfair.

This still feels like a terrible dream. I want to wake up and everything to be the way it was meant to be. I want to be that 20 year old, naive, head over heels in love, Mrs. Wade. I want to roll over and hear Chad talking in his sleep. I want to wake up to the strong smell of his cologne, him kissing me goodbye before he leaves for work. I want to check my phone and see a missed message or call from "My Baby." I want to wash dirty cammies and have random military gear all over the house. I want to hang up his towel he always left on the floor after taking a shower. I want to attempt to carry him to bed, when he passed out on the couch at 7: 30 each night. I want to remember what it felt like to hold his hand, to see his facial expressions, and to hear his voice.

After a good cry, I always fall into a stage of some kind of shock. I'm drained and all I want to do is sleep all my worries away. Sleep everything away. Sleep away life until I am in his arms again.


  1. *hugs* I know you aren't asking for anything, but I wish there was more I can offer you besides prayers.

  2. I am so, so sorry this happened to you. Good thoughts are being sent your way...

  3. You honor Chad every day that you wake up and go about your day. Your ability to recall the good things of the past, the small triumphs in the present, and the hope of a future gives strength to those who travel alongside you as well as to those who will never understand the road you're on. Your willingness to share means that your story becomes a part of our collective narrative of this time and place in our shared history. I appreciate that you both are continuing to make a difference through what you're doing, even though you may never know who you touch or realize the impact you make.

  4. Katie you are unbelievably strong. I could not imagine being in your shoes. My heart hurts for you and other widows every single day. Just know that Chad is looking down on you and only wants what is best for you. You are a beautiful person inside and out, and I am positive that Chad is proud of the way you are handling yourself. There is nothing wrong with having a good cry every now and then. <3

  5. This isn't something I write lightly or with any understanding of what you've been and are going through; I hope that you have or can find someone to give you the support that you need. I know we don't know one another and probaby never will, but it would hurt me to know something happened to you, so I can only imagine what it would do to those who know and love you. Take care of yourself.

  6. Katie
    Cry as much as u need too crying is good for the soul.

  7. I'm so sorry Katie. I always have and I always will be here for you if you ever need anything. I pray for you. Stay strong, Katie.

  8. I was just writing in my blog post today that as much as people talk about going through the stages of grief, I feel as if they wash over me multiple times, at different stages.

    These anniversaries are difficult, I know. My husband would have been 34 last month. Know that, as I'm thinking of you, so are many of your family and friends.