Monday, March 9, 2020

Alive Day



March 9th, 2011



I knew it was too early for my phone to be ringing.


Lori, my soon to be mother-in-law, was calling. What could she need? My thoughts immediately went to Afghanistan, where my fiancĂ©, Jack Zimmerman was deployed with the 101st Airborne Division. When did I last hear from him? 



I answered hearing the desperation and sadness in her voice as she said to me, “Megan, I need you to come to our house. We have something to tell you.” 



I could think of nothing other than the one question that replayed in my mind a hundred times in an instant and it took all the strength I had to ask it…



Is he alive? Just tell me if he is alive…”  Over and over I asked, I begged her to tell me the worst. 



Jack, my fiancĂ© of only a week had just been home for his two-week leave after spending eight months deployed and proposed to me the night before he went back, on the eve of my 20th birthday. (If only I could have known at that moment just how much getting down on one knee would come to mean to us both).


I’ll always remember her next words. I could tell from over the phone how hard it was for her to say it out loud. “He’s alive Megan, but it’s bad. I’m on my way to pick you up now.” 



The car ride to the other side of our small town lasted forever. Lori wanted to wait to tell me until Jack’s dad arrived home; he was already at work for the day, but I couldn’t bear to not know. 



Barely able to choke the words out, she looked at me and said, “Megan….Jack was in an explosion and his legs are gone…”



My knees crumbled, my back slid down the wall and I sat on the floor, sobbing. My world went dark, my thoughts felt numb. I knew the reality. I knew the risk. I knew the sacrifices of so many before him. But this was real. It was happening. And it was happening to me. How did I go from showing off my new engagement ring, searching wedding themes on Pinterest and envisioning the happiness the rest of my life held to this pain and heartbreak? The hours and days to follow were unbearable. Information came in slow and uncertain. We received contradicting reports of the extent of his injuries and everyone was in a state of confusion. The news of Jack’s accident spread quickly and people from everywhere flooded in and out of the house seeking information, showing support, sharing their sympathy, and offering to help in any way they could. 


My family and friends never left my side during the five days between finding out of Jack’s accident and taking my first ever flight to meet him in Texas. They helped me pack up my life and supported me with anything I needed. I had to quit my job working at a daycare center, drop out of my sophomore year of college and leave the only home I’d ever known, and I was only twenty years old. I’d be lying if I said the thoughts of whether or not I could do this didn’t cross my mind. I wondered every second how different my life was going to look and how difficult it was going to be and knew that no one would blame me for walking away. I was so young, we both were, with the rest of our lives in front of us. But, I said it then and I say it today, a life without Jack is not a life I want. 



Today, Jack and I celebrate his 9-year alive day and view it as a day to see all the things we have accomplished together over nearly a decade. We were married just two months after his accident, and will soon celebrate nine wedded years. We have two wonderful young boys, William (6) and Benjamin (5) and three dogs. We have taken the worst day of our lives and used it to inspire and motivate others around us and both work diligently to advocate for veterans and caregivers.


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