Some things...just don't happen twice.

When you're part of the military life, sometimes...you wonder to yourself if the idea of "getting used to death" make you sound like a lifeless, inconsiderate fool. Death is part of life and unfortunately, it always sits in the back of your mind when you are (in any ways) related to the military. Death is part of life and when you've been to that many funerals, that many memorial serves as I have, in some ways, you become numb and lifeless. And when breaking down is no longer part of you, you wonder if you can ever break down again and you doubt you can. Until you do and it completely surprises you.

But that's Death many of us don't have to see first hand. That's Death we hear about after it passes. But what do you do when you are staring at Death right in the eye. What do you do when you are watching Death do its tormenting work on the ones you know and love?

Would you still be numb as when someone says, "On behalf of the President of the United States and a grateful nation..." Would you still be the one that tries to hold off tears as the bagpipes slowly moves away? Would your hands still shake from the sound of the rifles firing their 21-gun salute?

Me? I sat by Sean completely numb just like I did years ago attending my cousin's funeral at Arlington Cemetery. I sat there in his hospital room last night hearing him cry and beg for the pain to stop. I sat there, and like a fool, I finally realized that some things...just don't happen twice.

My parents and I, we're a country family. We're big on Country music from Johnny Cash to George Strait, from Toby Keith to Willie Nelson and that much more. It was Mom's idea to release the stress of moving to attend CMA Festival this year, since the Army have placed us in the home-state of County music. For years we've only watched it on TV and for years...I've dream to attend the biggest country party, ever. And when the day I held the 4-day pass in my lap...holy cow, I could faint from lack of breathing.

And I still am short breathed...for the couple hours I was down there in Nashville, it was amazing, the party, the music, the people. I couldn't ask for more. But some things...only happen once. Some things like life. And last night, at 2230, a little 5 year old taught me more than I can ever teach him.

And today, I am reminded of that lesson, not by Sean but my friends. Since the beginning of my blogging "career" and Twittering "management" I've met a lot of wonderful people. People like Tucker, Heidi, and Mom made my every day reading their blog and Twitter page. And just like that, I've made friends from "strangers". I learn from them as I learn from my parents and I laugh with them as if they're my friends.

Today, I give credit to my friend, LopsidedMom and her good friend Annie for reminding me that some things...just don't happen twice. Annie was diagnosed with Leiomyosarcoma early June of 2008. As I read about her condition getting worse, I pray for the best. I prayed for her and I prayed for Sean. And somehow, without thinking, I called my friend and offered him my 4-Day pass to CMA Festival.

As much as I love Country music, as much as I want to party my ass off for four days. I gave the pass away. Because of Sean, because of LopsidedMom and because of Annie, I realized what's important at hand. I realized that Sean needs me now more than I need the Festival.

Sean, with his 5 year old body and 100 year old spirit, is fighting with Death. And while I can't do anything to help the fight, I sit by his bed wishing I can do more. I sit by his bed watching Death tormenting my 5 year old cousin and once again...feel as helpless as the day I learned about the insurgents that killed my cousin.

But for now I will watch Death torment Sean. But at the same time, I am cherishing life by hanging out with Sean, by holding Sean when he's in pain and crying and more. Because, really, Sean needs me more than I need the Festival. Because, really, some things just don't happen twice.

Thanks to Mr. Kenny Chesney for that awesome line. Sorry I'm going to miss you and the closing ceremony at the CMA Festival this year but really my cousin needs me.