Sometimes I Dream of Lobster Stew {Our Trip to Maine, part one}

On November 8, 2010 a tragedy happened that would soon bring two families together. Andrew L. Hutchins was killed in Afghanistan. 

"Hutch" served with my husband in the 101st Airborne Division with the 3rd STB, 3rd BCT Rakkasans. They were Military Policeofficers. Soldiers. Friends. Brothers in Arms. It's hard to believe that one day, one single moment, can forever change a life. Many lives. 

After Hutch was killed my husband vowed to always stay in touch with his family. Not in an intrusive way. If they didn't want him around then he wouldn't push. Luckily, they welcomed him with open arms. Not only into their lives but, into their home. Into their family.

The first anniversary of Hutch's death my husband went to Maine to be with Hutch's wife and infant daughter, his parents and his brother. That would only be the beginning of an amazing connection between all involved. 

When Hubs took me with him last year I didn't know what to expect. I wasn't sure I could handle the emotions around it all. I didn't know Hutch, yet I cry each and every time I sit and write about him and his family or I talk about him in depth....and even when I think long and hard about our daughter's name, Mabry Mae Hutchins. {she is named after him to honor his sacrifice} I certainly didn't expect to fall in love with the people that Hutch loved so dearly. He has an amazing family. His dad met us at the airport with great big hugs and kisses, took us to his home and made us dinner. His stepmom made sure we saw as much as we could see in the short time we were there. His young wife brought their now toddler daughter to visit with us. We enjoyed those three days more than I think I will ever be able to convey to them. I will forever treasure the days spent in Maine. {and look forward to many, many more!}

I don't know why I feel compelled to write about Hutch and his family so often. I won't apologize for it. He deserves to be remembered. So MANY soldiers are forgotten. Or, their story is told once or twice and "that's enough". I think I will come back and write about Hutch and his sacrifice and his family often. VERY often. He will not be forgotten. Not by his family. Not by my husband. Not by me. Not by any of you if you stick with my blog long enough. :o)

I sat down to write today because I found some pictures from last November when we went to Maine. I wanted to share them with you. And then I just started typing and all of that above came out. Now, I'll share the pictures. And why this post is titled what it is titled.

The day after we arrived in Maine, Hutch's dad took us to this amazing little restaurant on the water.


Cook's Lobster House on Bailey Island, Maine. Seriously, if you find yourself in the area, GO! Have the Lobster Stew. Thank me later.

Lobstah Stew, y'all. {that's Maine talk and Southern talk right there!} See those enormous chunks of lobster? Heaven in your mouth. No joke.


Fresh Maine Lobster, or Lobstah, if you're reading from Maine. {Hubs had already taken two pieces off of my plate before I got a picture. Did he forget I'm a blogger and take pictures of all of the food???!!?!}

After we ate lunch, we walked around the tiny island for a little bit. It was cold and dreary but, like nothing I had ever seen before. Simple beautiful.















While we walked around in the cold, Hutch's dad sat in the warm truck and loved on our Mabry.



Until November of this year, I'll keep looking back on these pictures. I can't wait to get back up there and hug the necks of a family that I never knew I had...and would've never met under any other circumstances.

{there are more pictures...waiting to be edited. Coming soon. *wink*}