Never Forget, Never Forgotten.

This is a touching story of a woman who lost the man of her life. I have changed the families name for respect towards them. It's an honor to be able to post her story on my blog. Thank you and may God bless you always. I understand that Memorial Day was yesterday, but let's never lose the memory of our fallen soldiers.

It was a steamy, August afternoon in Bolzano Vicentino, Italy. The most beautiful place I have ever lived. Ron had been sent to Afghanistan shortly after we moved in to our awesome apartment in March. I loved being on that farm and thought how lucky I was to be living in such a wonderful place.
I was sitting in the living room, crocheting an afghan when the doorbell rang. I thought it was the local gypsies that usually came to sell their wares. I had made the mistake of buying some kitchen towels from one of them about a week before, so I asked Joe to go see who was at the door and send them away. He went to the window on the third floor, our living quarters, and yelled back at me that it was Eric and some other Army men in uniform.

I froze.

It took me a minute to think of what to do. My mind was racing, but I kept calm. I went to the window and saw Eric (he and his wife Elsie were two of our best friends) standing behind the Jeep and two or three men in uniform at the door. I asked him what was going on and he said calmly, “Michelle, open the door”. I said, “No, I don’t think so”. He said again, “Michelle, please open the door”. I again said, "No. I don't think I should." He repeated again and I reluctantly, with Joe close behind, went down the stairs, trying so hard to not to fall down them.. Joe asked me what was going on and all I could say was, it’s ok baby. Everything’s gonna be ok, stay here on the 1st floor landing. I finally got to the door after what seemed like an eternity, with knees shaking and eyes welling with tears, I opened the door to see a young soldier with a somber look on his face.

The following words will haunt me for the rest of my life and frequently reside in my dreams. 

“Mrs. Robinson, I regret to inform you that your husband, 1st Lt. Ron Robinson, was killed this morning by an improvised explosive device near Baylough, Afghanistan.......” and that’s all I heard. My ears began to ring and all I could do was scream NO over and again, at the top of my lungs. My legs gave out and I collapsed. Eric and the men in uniform helped me up and walked me upstairs. Everything was a blur. I didn't know where Joe went. I didn't know who the men were and I didn't know what to say or do. All I know is the worst moment of my life had just taken place and our lives were completely changed. Forever.

So, on this long weekend of BBQ’s and hanging out with friends and family, take some time to think about the men and women who have given their lives serving our country, the men and women who are still serving, the survivors who live every day with injuries or are suffering from the traumas they have witnessed overseas and the surviving families of fallen soldiers.

I will always honor you all.