Just a reminder for me tonight. Heard about a black hawk crash in the mountains because hubby's crew was on call to possibly have to go in for recovering the victims. T called me with a list of things he needed me to bring to the station, just in case they got the call to go. So, after dinner with friends, me and the kids drove his gear over to him to drop off. T told JG that he didn't know if he'd see him tomorrow or not, but good night and he'd see him whenever he got home. On the way home, JG asked why did daddy need that stuff and why was he maybe not coming home in the morning? So I explained that a helicopter crashed and some men died and Daddy might have to go and get those men to bring them home for their families to bury them, just like we buried Grandma F. I told him how this is a very sad thing and these families are grieving and sad over the loss of their daddies or brothers or sons. After a few other questions ('What was the helicopter doing in the mountains' and 'What were those men doing'), he began a little song. It went something like this:

"A helihopter flying in the mountains.

Crashed dooooown.

one, two, three, four, five, six boys are missing their daddies.

Oh, a helihopter crashed dooooown."

Oh how my heart aches for those families tonight wherever and whomever they are. We prayed for their comfort and their grief at bedtime tonight. I just can't stop thinking about them.