I am familiar with the grief tied to the loss of loved ones. As a veteran, I also know the pain of losing those standing on either side of me. I am not familiar, however, with the grief felt by the husbands and wives of our fallen. Even with my extensive experience in loss, I cannot begin to comprehend their very specific losses.

Lisa Hallett lost her husband, Army Captain John Hallett, in 2009. Captain Hallett was killed when his vehicle was struck by an IED five weeks into his deployment to Afghanistan. I know the terror of an IED attack and the helplessness and chaos that ensues after being hit by an unseen force. While I am very familiar with devices similar to the one that killed Captain Hallett, I have no frame of reference for the experience of Lisa Hallett. I cannot know the degree of her grief over losing her husband. I will never know what kind of parent he was to their three children. I will never know all that she has lost.

What I do know, thanks in large part to a BBC documentary titled “To Remember,” is what Lisa Hallett has been doing to deal with her loss: she runs. Lisa and a group of military widows founded “Wear Blue: Run to Remember” to honor the men and women that never returned from deployment. Lisa’s physical commitment to humanizing the loss created by war is beyond admirable. I cannot think of a more fitting tribute.

I am fortunate to have survived two deployments to Iraq. My military occupational specialty during my time in the Marine Corps was that of a combat engineer. My job description is rather nebulous given that combat engineers are expected to be well-versed in basic construction, land mine warfare, battlefield-obstacle creation and placement, basic bridge construction and, most importantly, the application of explosives in various combat settings.

A good deal of what I did in Iraq involved me destroying things with explosives: large stockpiles of enemy weapons, trees, residential doors and gates and undetonated explosives. I spent the majority of my second deployment looking for improvised explosive devices. Quite simply, I walked hundreds of miles, looking for roadside bombs and hidden weapons caches with my eyes and a mine detector.

I remember running seemingly endless miles during my enlistment. That Lisa has found a healthy outlet for her grief is commendable, but more importantly, Lisa and her running partners in blue are actively maintaining the memory of honorable men and women. Rather than avoiding the pain of her loss, by actively confronting her personal loss, Lisa has found a way to rebuild what was torn down by war.

I have been busy rebuilding as well. The damage done by my own war with addiction is undeniable. I spent years looking for solid excuses for my own problems. I took the pills that were prescribed. I also took a great deal of pills that weren’t prescribed in an effort to avoid confronting my own problems. I ran flailing head-first into every bottle, every distraction, looking for relief where none was to be had.

Despite the destruction, I have found that, while I cannot fix what I have done, I have been committed, for almost two years now, to fixing what I am. I focus on my gains and what I am able to do for others. The wreckage of my past is always there, and although I learned the slow and hard way, I believe that I am well on my way to rebuilding what my war with addiction tore down.

mmacdona@mavs.coloradomesa.edu