10-14-2002

Even if I don't specifically remember immediately upon waking what today means to me, I always wake up with a grey cloud over my head.

Today marks the fifth year my life has been without one of the kindest, gentlest, most unique, intelligent and fantastic men I had ever know. We called him "Angel" which is ironic because that's what he is now. A guardian angel, someone out there looking out for us... an "in" to the world we can't see.

And still I miss him. His sense of humor, the way he always knew just what to say to cheer me up... the closeness that I felt during that small period of time when I was surrounded by friends that were more like family to me than my own blood relatives.

I will never forget that day. The phone rang early, earlier than it usually did, and I immediately had a pit of my stomach feeling. It was my good friend asking if I had heard about the training accident.

"No," I told her. "I'm sure it wasn't your husband. I would have heard something by now."

I will forever regret and remember that answer for the rest of my life. Because it was her husband. He, and another soldier, were the ones in the wrong place at the wrong time. A freak accident, you see. It was an accident, but that only made it harder to deal with. Who gets run over by a tank!? Who does that?! It couldn't have been my friend. That was impossible to accept.

The days that followed were like a blur. Visitation, funeral, grieving. The sound of my friend throwing her body over her deceased husband's in the casket, sobbing and pounding her fists against him for leaving her so soon. They had recently gotten married. A 21 gun salute that felt as though someone was shooting those bullets into my soul.

And yet, time seems to have healed some of the pain. We try to treat today as a celebration of his life, as he would have wanted it. It's just hard not to be selfish, not to wish for one more day listening to him laugh and seeing that shit-eating grin on his face.

Rest in peace, Jason "Angel" Fisher. Rest in peace.