Juan and I were a regular couple. We loved to hike, camp, and travel. This brought us together on March 20 1993. Soon afterwards, we had our first child, Julian. Then, a month after his birth Juan left for basic training. This is how the the rest of lives was to be played out. Always moving and always gone. I didn't mind too much. I knew it was the price to pay. Juan loved his job. He was Infantry. So, after moving some more, we had our second child, Max. Then finally, our dog, cheech. Our family, according to us, was complete. Oh, before I forget, there was his car. A 1987 Suzuki Samarai. Sometimes, I think, he loved it more than me, god knows he spent more money on it than on me. But that was o.k., I figured, it was the least I could give him, considering everything he had to put with....i.e. the army, DFAS, and my pms.
I really don't know how to begin this portion, so bare with me.....................For weeks, everytime I heard a car door slam, I would run to the window, to make sure I wouldn't see the dreaded two men with class A uniforms. By the time March came around, I let my guard down. I thought I was safe. On March 04 2005, the boys (11 and 8) woke up late for school. We started rushing around the house. It was 7:20 a.m., then I heard the door bell ring.....I knew who it was....who else would come so early. I opened the door and there, in front of me stood two men with Class A uniforms. I told the boys to please go to their room, while I talked to these men. They asked me if I was Elsa Solorio, I said yes. (I can't remember alot of things, I'm hoping by writing this, I remember). They said....Juan died that morning. I told them....o.k. you need to give me a minute, I need to talk to my boys. I walked into their room. They knew, Julian, said...."Mom, don't say it...I don't want to here it" What could I say? I want to be strong for them. Then Max tells me, he had a dream about Dad that night, he said "I dreamed, that daddy was shot" he was right, daddy was shot. Julian, asked for permission to say a bad word. I said, yes, just this once. Then we cried together. Today, I think, I remember, my heart ached for my husband and it ached for my children.
I hope by writing a little everyday, I will remember. My husband is/was my best friend. Everyday since his death, I have wanted to share my experience with him, all of them the good and the bad, mostly bad...but there have been some good ones.... which I plan on sharing, with the hope and dream....that maybe, he is hearing me.
For those who, want to see my belove hubby, here is a link to a recent article. If you need to log in use the following info
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http://online.wsj.com/article/SB113824475222356725-email.html