The American Widow Project... Comrades-in-Arms

I am not really sure if I can put into words what the American Widow Project means to me or if I can justly describe the impact it has had on my life.  Without a doubt, I know I would not be who I am today without it.  To be honest I cannot imagine moving forward in life without the friends and positive encouragement that comes with being a member.  It is most certainly a part of who I am, and who I want to be in the future.

When Bryant was killed, I was blessed with a very strong support system.  I did have horrible moments but I have always known I am not alone.  I have my family, my army family, my friends, my best friend Nadine and I have Bryant's undying love to get me through.  Even in the darkest moments I know I am blessed and I am grateful.  To be honest when it came to support, during those first couple years, I was not really even aware that I was missing something.  That feeling of being alone, of being lost, of not knowing, of being shut off from the world was something I believed came with the job description of being a widow.  And most of what I was feeling (and still feel) is definitely from having lost the man I love more than my own life.  But it wasn't until 2 years into my widowhood when I joined the American Widow Project that I began to realize someone else understood the physical pain I felt when my world was destroyed.  That there were other women who were awake at 4 am, afraid to go to bed alone because there in the dark they could not longer hide from the gut wrenching tears.  And yes, there were other women who suddenly found that personal hygiene and cleaning your house were not highly rated in the final scheme of things.  But most of all there were other women who recognized that behind the strength and determination the rest of the world saw, was a woman who was afraid she would take the wrong step, make the wrong decision, and let her husband down.  They knew the woman who struggled to find a reason to continue breathing because they were that woman too.  I tried grief counseling and I tried group therapy.  They are all well and good, and probably do wonders for others.  But for me what made the American Widow Project different is the AWP gives me a community.  I place where I am accepted, a place where I am normal, a place where I belong.

My first AWP event was in July 2008 at the premiere of the AWP dvd.  Unsure of what to expect I almost backed out of going.  I finally forced myself to get in the car and even showed up late for Friday's dinner.  I remember walking into the hotel lobby and there was a small group of women.  I did not recognize any of them.  But I knew in my heart they were widows.  They wore the widows' badge of honor... tattoos.  Still I hesitated and then one of them mentioned a name I recognized.  I walked over, told them who I was and Natalie Craver hugged me.  (I still have the business card she gave me.)  That evening I met the other widows at the bridge to watch the bats.  I was still unsure of what to expect so I went back to my room.  My roommate for the weekend, Deb was not going to arrive until the next evening so I spent that first night alone. The activities the next day were lots of fun (especially the tubing) but for me that has never been why I attend the AWP events, not even the first one.  I needed to know if the acceptance and understanding I found online was real and I needed to know if there was a place for a (nearly) 40-year old woman in this group of very young women.  That evening I had my answer.

That evening we all came together at the Alamo Draft House for the dvd premiere.  I finally met Deb who I had already connected with so closely online.  At first, I connected with Deb because she was the first AWP widow who was close to my age.  She and Chris had been together almost as long as Bryant and I, and she understood what it meant to give up a part of yourself to be a career soldier's wife.  Deb is also as outspoken as me (maybe even more so) and her humor is just as dark!  During the film, I sat with Jenn F.  She was the very first widow I ever met.  Her husband Alex was killed 1 month and 1 day after Bryant.  Before deploying to Iraq, our husbands had worked together in 8-10 Cav, so I went to Alex's Memorial at Ft. Hood.  Bryant would have wanted to be there to honor him and despite the masochistic decision I knew I was making, I went so as to not let Bryant down.  When we met, Jenn and I did not immediately connect.  To be honest it was probably too soon for both of us since there was really nothing left in us to give.  But as we were introduced I remember struggling to find something to say, when I noticed the chain around her neck.  I reached up to my own necklace and lifted it so that she would see the wedding rings dangling.  She reached up and touched her own.  It was not a magical moment and no divine revelations were shouted from the Heavens... we were just two women who were broken.  

After the dvd was over we headed to 6th Street.  Jenn, Deb, Karrie (Deb's best friend) and I went from club to club.  We ran into groups of the other widows, chatted, laughed, danced and watched all the interesting people who helped to give Austin its name... WEIRD!  Oddly enough, as the night wound down, all the widows, nearly 30 of us, all came together in the same bar... Pete's Dueling Pianos.  As the last song of the night began we all joined in singing... Journey's "Don't Stop Believing".  As we all stood there arm in arm, singing at the top of our lungs, we looked to each other and for the first time since I saw Bryant, I saw hope.  I saw the possibility for a future happiness.  In that moment a piece of my soul healed.  Later that night, about 10 of us sat in the lobby of the hotel talking and I realized we were all trying to hold onto what we had found that weekend.  None of wanted the weekend to end.

After moving to North Carolina, I began to volunteer with the AWP.  Knowing what the organization gives to me, I wanted to find a way to give something back.  Over the past year I have been to several AWP events.  With each trip I watch as each new widow has that moment when she realizes she is not crazy, everything she is feeling is normal, and that she is not walking alone.  

Through the years I have often said and I truly believe with all my heart, when you choose to join the military, you gain something from it.  It does not matter how long you serve, the military becomes a part of who you are.  That something is indescribable, but you know it is there and it makes you a better person. With the men and women you serve with, your comrades-in-arms, there is a bond, an understanding... they are family.  Even as the family member of a soldier, you understand the military is a close-knit community.  A society separate from the civilian world. As a former soldier and a military spouse, I loved that sense of being part of something bigger than yourself.  A place, a community where you belonged.  Then my worst nightmare happened.  I became a military widow.  I no longer knew my place in the military world that I had called home for so long.  Did I even have a place?  I am forever connected to these people who worked with my husband, his comrades-in-arms.  That connection, that bond is there... but it isn't my bond, my connection.  It is Bryant's.  SFC Bryant Herlem's widow will always have a place in that world.  But what about LaNita?

That feeling of connection I lost with the army, I gained through the AWP.  Grief is not a wound that heals and goes away.  Like being a soldier, the pain of widowhood becomes a part of who you are, something you will always carry with you.  My widsters are my comrades-in-arms now.  We have each others back.  We march side-by-side, fight the good fight and leave no widster behind.  We arrive broken, but with the help of each other we learn how to adapt and overcome.  We all carry battle-scars.  And like a military post, the AWP has built a community for us, a place where we are understood and supported.  A place to grow and yes, even heal a bit as we grow stronger.  That is what the AWP is to me.  A place where I feel as if I belong, where I have a sense of kinship, a place where I can safely learn to live again.  Being an AWP widow is a part of who I am.  It has given me something. Something indescribable.  But I know it is there and I know I am a going to be a better person because of it.