Thursday, November 13, 2008

As I was driving away I opened the side window and yelled “just please be safe!”

As I was driving away I opened the side window and yelled “just please be safe!”, and with that he was gone. It has been an emotional week. My husband drove from Fort Riley Kansas to bring his car home to Virginia. Jim, only had a few days, a weekend really. He was happy to be home but wasn’t really here if you know what I mean. He was already mentally in Afghanistan. He spent the few days he was here just going over everything he wanted everyone to know and do while he was gone. He wants us to remember him and remember the mission and its merits. Right now I don’t care about the mission or the ANA (Afghan National Army) or if they can get trained up to a 21st century military capable of securing their people. Ok, I do a little but I am more concerned with my husband’s safety.

While he was here we went to visit a few reporters. He felt it important that people were educated on the country of Afghanistan, on the mission, on the soldiers going there. He doesn’t do this for his own recognition but for everyone doing this job. It is a dangerous job, given to few, that the entire war depends on. The reporters were wonderful. They were interested in learning and in hearing his story, my story, the story of military families and even the story of the Afghanistan mission.

I got a call Saturday morning from each of my brother’s. Each wanting to tell me that my 95 yr old grandmother was ill and it didn’t look good. She was a tough bird but even tough birds at 95 are fragile. I sat in the meetings with the reporters holding my phone. Hoping it would ring and also hoping it wouldn’t. We made it through two meetings with no word.

We were on the metro leaving DC when my phone did ring (or rather vibrated). It was my brother. He said Gram was failing and failing fast. I could hear in the background machines and people talking. The phone went dead, we went into a tunnel. No signal… Came out of the tunnel and called again, more machine noise then none. That afternoon, while listening in on the phone my gram passed quietly away with family and love.

Jim put his hand on my shoulder (he was sitting behind me as the metro car was packed). He also later hugged me and told me he was sorry for my loss. I was glad he was there. So while preparing to say goodbye to Jim, I was simultaneously planning my drive back to Wisconsin for the funeral of my Grandmother. That was a tightrope time. I didn’t want Jim to think I wasn’t concentrating on his departure but I had things to do. He kept asking me why I wasn’t crying. I explained that “crying is a frivolity I can’t give in to right now, maybe next week”. I did cry a little, just those few tears that slip out when I had a moment break. There was no way I could just give in to that though. No time, no extra emotional energy to put toward grieving or saying goodbye.

As if that were not enough to flatten me, I cut up an apple to give to our pet guinea pig and found him dead in his cage. He hadn’t appeared ill or acted strangely at all. Jim sadly offered to bury him in the back garden. After that, we all packed, Jim packed up his few things he was taking with him, the boys and I packed for our trip to Wisconsin. It was not a happy packing time with anticipation of a holiday vacation. This was nothing like that at all.

Monday, the boys went to school and I took Jim to the airport. On our way out of the driveway our neighbor needed help jump starting her vehicle. We stopped and did that for her. Then we were off. We talked little on that drive to the airport. We both tried to sound normal, like he was off for a week or to a conference or training. It was false, we were both gutted inside. We kissed, said goodbye and even though I barely had air in my lungs I opened the side window and yelled.

2 comments:

Alexis Jacobs said...

Oh Dawn... my heart aches for you. What a beautifully written post. I will be thinking of you and your family. ((hugs)) It is people like your husband who are hero's. Thank you.

Cindy said...

You should submit that to your newspaper. I wish there was something that I could do to help, but all I can do is offer my love and prayers from a distant location. You are an amazing woman and one that I look up to every day.