I just lost a dear friend from my childhood in the war. It is strange, my DH or i hadn't seen or heard from him in 5 years and one day he just walks into my house. He stayed for dinner and told us of his family and his new son and that he was returning to Iraq after taking scrapnel (sp?) and it was his choice. The visit was amazing but strange that he would just come by. 4 months later in Feb he was killed by a bomb that was implanted on his hum-v while doing a sweep of a village. Before he left for his tour they had him fill out a booklet of death requests, who the pension would go to, the flag, burial and people he would like to speak at his funeral. In this booklet he said he would be honored if my DH spoke. We were floored..and very honored. My DH broke down in front of 1000 people, made Marines cry and tried to honor him as well as he could. I thank him everyday for what he did for us. My children will learn about him and what he did for them and why they still get to play outside and enjoy their freedom.
I miss him everyday and I think he knew what was going to happen and that is why he stopped by that day.