When we last left off, we were getting into the celebratory, Christmas spirit here in Hawaii...
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| Students worked on a New Year's Resolution projects, and I just had to share some of my favorites...from funny to heartbreaking! The honesty of children... |
However, before leaving for California to spend the holidays with our family, we showered our dear friend, and mommy-to-be, Sarena. Baby Mila's due date was in January, so before we all left for home we told her to sit tight until we all got back! However, the little babe had other plans and decided to make an early entrance into the world, arriving 2 days before Christmas, and at least a week before any of us, her closest friends, or her family were due back in Hawaii. Oh, and did I forget to mention? Sarena's husband was also deployed in Japan at the time! If that isn't a testament to the strength required of a military spouse, I don't know what is! However, the squadron arranged a beautiful Christmas miracle, and Brett was able to fly home for 10 days to be with his wife and new daughter. He even completely surprised Sarena with his arrival, and showed up quite perfectly on Christmas Day!
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| We set up a head-band making station, and guests made personalized headbands for baby Mila. |
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| The hosts and the guest of honor! |
Jordan and I had a wonderful time back home, as always, and traveled by train, plane and automobile, visiting all of our friends and family from LA to San Diego.
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| In good spirits, after a quick layover in Kauai, and on our way home! |
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| We flew in to LA and enjoyed brunch with good friends, before heading down to Orange County to see family. |
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| Taking the train from LA to Orange County |
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| Made it home, and everything is right in Smokey's world again! |
 
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Jordan and I spent an evening in Laguna Beach and were treated to the most beautiful sunset. There are truly no sunsets like California sunsets!
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| Christmas Service with my parents at Saddleback Church |
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| And after the traditional Christmas Eve party at our house (and a 3D Star Wars showing for the boys), we enjoyed a nice, relaxing (well for the most part and with the exception of the man-crates) morning together before heading to the Lippincotts for the rest of Christmas Day. |
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| Over Ortega and through the Desert, to the Lippincotts we go! |
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| Time spent in Temecula |
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| We finally got to meet our sweet friends', the Reeds, new baby girl, Fallon! |
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| Our last day in California was perfectly spent, enjoying a beautiful day on Lake Mission Viejo and wonderful time with family. Oh and Mexican food! |
Arriving back to Hawaii was bittersweet. It's always hard to say goodbye to family once again, but we are always excited to be reunited with our fur-child, Gunnar. However, soon after arriving home, Marine Corps Base Hawaii was struck by a devastating tragedy. In the early morning hours of January 14, 2016, two helicopters from Marine Corps Base Hawaii crashed into each other, 2.5 miles off the coast of Oahu. I was awoken by frantic text messages from friends and family. The earliest reports just stated that it was two Marine helicopters, no description of the type of helicopters involved. So while thankfully I received these messages with my husband sleeping soundly next to me, my heart frantically raced as I thought through all of my friends' husbands and tried to remember if I knew who was flying last night.
In those situations, you don't text your friends and ask if their husband is home, because you have to prepared for them to say
no, why? The official in-person notification by chaplains are still hours away, and the misery and worry that washes over a person in those hours, I can only imagine, would be utterly unbearable. I know if it were me, if Jordan wasn't sleeping next to me that night, I don't know how I would have gone through those hours awaiting notification of his safety.
I was up the rest of that night, refreshing my internet searches, desperately seeking some information that would help to put together the pieces, eliminating those we knew from harm's way. Eventually, the news reports began stating that there were 12 people missing, which eliminated the possibility of the helicopters being Cobras, those that Jordan flies, but still left the possibility of Hueys or CH-53s. In the end, the two helicopters involved were CH-53s, from Jordan's sister squadron, Pegasus.
Still dark upon receiving that news, most of the world still asleep and unaware of the tragedy unfolding, I rushed to the window in our bedroom, looking for my next-door neighbor's car in the driveway. It wasn't there. I couldn't help but wonder what was going on next door, was his wife awake and aware of what was going on? All the what-ifs were running through my head and I couldn't stop thinking of their 4 small children, most likely sleeping peacefully and unaware in their beds. As dawn broke, news started to travel fast within our community. All pilots from the Pegasus squadron had been called in as soon as the crash happened, all communication had been shut down to avoid spouses finding out the news through process of elimination, as we were all frantically trying to do, or through a well-intentioned but unfortunate text message or facebook post. During that time, the squadron was racing against time, coordinating the proper support systems to be put in place when the news was delivered, simultaneously (to avoid the process of elimination), and in person.
It was a somber day on base that day, and of course as were the days that followed. Seeing the CACO (casually assistance calls officer) dressed in his formal uniform, walking up to a neighbors house to make notification, made my stomach physically turn. It was the surrealest moment of my life to date. And while I feel terribly saying, thank God it wasn't the father of the 4 children next door, it was still a father, a husband, a son, a brother, and a friend. 12 to be exact. Guys that Jordan had sat on the back porch in Australia with, smoking cigars, playing poker and sharing stories under the stars of the outback with. And it was 12 families. 12 families, who lived their worst nightmare that day.
I'm not quite sure how someone gets through a moment like that. Especially when those men left for work that day just for a routine training night flight. I doubt anyone thought twice about never seeing their loved one again when they said goodbye that day. I'm sure they were going through their weekly routine, looking forward to their weekend and time spent together as a family. That weekend, and time together, would unfortunately never come.
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| Candelight vigil held on base during the search efforts |
Our spouses' flying careers have become routine, and one becomes immune to the inherent danger that their daily jobs entail. In fact, becoming immune is how many of us deal with this lifestyle. You can't worry about every possibility or every flight they take. It will make you sick. I often choose not to even ask when Jordan has flights because, especially after a tragedy like this, it is easy to become paralyzed with fear and worry. Even as I write this, I am trying to push to the back of my mind the fact that Jordan is flying on the Big Island today, probably right now as I'm typing this. On days like today, when I know, I just anxiously await a text that he has landed. While I used to worry over every flight in the early days, becoming immune has become my coping mechanism, as I am sure it did for the 12 families of the Marines that died. You can pray, but I don't believe for one moment that crash happened because those 12 families did not pray for their safe return that night. So, in the end, you are helpless; there is nothing you can do to ensure their safety, and so you block it out.
The day after the crash, it rained. You couldn't help but note that the somber weather was a reflection of the heavy hearts amongst the community here. And after the hours of rain, wouldn't you know it, there was a rainbow. A rainbow that was seen for miles, touching down perfectly on Marine Corps Base Hawaii. Some may call it science, or just a coincidence, but for us it was chilling and beautiful, comforting and agonizing, all at the same time. I hope the families found some beauty or comfort in it, but I can't pretend to know how it felt for them.
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| The rainbow, as seen from miles away, over Marine Corps Base Hawaii. |
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| The rainbow, touching down in our neighborhood. |
8 days after the crash, after a week of around the clock search efforts by Marines, the Coast Guard, and even civilians themselves, a memorial was held on base. This was probably the second most surreal experience of my life. A bagpiper played "Amazing Grace" and the Marine Corps Band played Taps. 12 crosses, 12 pictures, and 12 families sat on the flightline. Is it strange to say it was beautiful? After a week of terrible weather and rain, it was the most beautiful, clear day, the green ridges of the Pali mountain range so vivid in the background, and the service was a beautiful, emotional tribute to the lives of these men.
For the rest of the world, life goes on. The news of this may have just been a small blip on the radar, or a newsflash banner that ran across the bottom of the TV. However, the nightmare for these families was far from over. Even though I didn't know her personally, my heart broke every time I drove by my neighbors house, seeing her with her 6 month old baby in the front yard, and her in-laws, who extended a pre-planned trip out to Hawaii to help her get through this transition and mourn the loss of their son. Seeing a for sale sign on her husbands' jeep, and watching the movers come and pack up their home, was a reminder that January 14, 2016 wasn't just the worst day of her life. It was only the beginning of her nightmare, and the day that her life forever changed.
I think all of us had a small form of PTSD after that crash, I hope that isn't inappropriate to say, especially those closest to the families affected. However, for those of us who were only distantly touched, every flight, especially night flights, still brings back memories of this crash, and the fears of waking up to find you husband still hasn't returned home or seeing news about a helicopter crash while your husband is gone. It breaks down that barrier of immunity so many of us have spent years building up, but it also reminds you to live life for today, and not for the weekend; to let go of the little things, be grateful for your blessings and appreciate the people in your life, here and now.
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| Note: I did not take these pictures. These were all taken by the Marine Corps or contracted photographers for the memorial. |
While I intended to just create bulk picture posts, broken down into 3 month increments in order to catch up to present day, looking back at this time in our life, and this experience, was much too important to not write about, or to simply fit in between other life events. So for now, I think it's most appropriate to just leave off here.
