Dad,
As I was laying in bed trying to go to leep tonight, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wished I could have been with you today on your birthday, so I decided I'd write and tell you.
I wanted to apologize again for not having a card or a gift for you on your special day. The card is on it's way, and the gift will be shortly, but they weren't there today when they should have been, and I feel badly. I'm sorry. That being said, there are things that no simple card can ever express, so I wanted to tell you about them now. I hope you don't mind that I shared them with the world on this blog. I just want everyone to know how very proud I am to call you my Dad.
First of all, you are now, always have been, and always will be my hero. You and Mom have taught me and raised me to be who I am today, and while I'm sure I didn't turn out quite as you'd hoped (I still can't speak Latin...), I think you did an incredible job with what you had to work with. You taught me to do the right thing. You taught me the importance of telling the truth. You showed me what it meant to be a man and a father. Big footsteps to follow in to be sure, but I try my best every day to make you proud of me.
You were (and still are) always there when I needed you. You let me sleep with you and Mom in the middle of the night when I was scared. You let me "help" you build things, even when all I did was get in the way. You put a bicycle together for me on my 6th Birthday. You let me run the trains under the Christmas tree. You drove an hour and a half to rescue me in the middle of the night when I got scared at camp. You went to every soccer game, baseball game, football game and parade even when all I did was stand in the middle of the field watching airplanes and trains. You made sure I got that double dump truck, even when there weren't any to be had. You fixed countless flat tires, broken toys, skinned knees, and hurt feelings. You soundproofed your garage for me when I just had to have that drum set. You took us on countless wonderful vacations. New York, Las Vegas, Yellowstone, Bryce, Zion, Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Salt Lake City, San Diego, San Francisco, Reno, Driving accross the country (what is it? 4 times now?) You showed me the things that were special to you. You took me golfing with you and just you at 6am on a Sunday morning, and taught me a little about the game you loved. You put me through a private school, even when I gave you every reason not to. You drove down to LAX in the middle of the night to rescue Mike, Greg and I when I wasn't paying attention and crashed the car. You pinned my WO1 bars on my shoulders. You pinned my wings on my chest. You moved me and my junk accross the country...twice.
You gave of yourself whatever it was you thought I needed, and you did so graciously and without question. You taught me the importance of doing a good job, no matter what job I was doing. You taught me to take responsibility for myself and my actions. You taught me to be proud of myself, and to stand up for what I believed in. You taught me to "think positive". You reminded me that 90% of the things we worry about never happen. You taught me the importance of just saying a prayer, and you let me decide who to pray to. You let me follow my dreams and pursue my goals, never once trying to change my mind. You let me become me because you were you.
In short Dad, you set the example for me to follow, and a simple "Thank You" will never be thanks enough. You and Mom were and are my biggest fans. I just wanted you to know that I am yours as well.
I can only hope that I can be for Jaislyn what you are to me. If I accomplish nothing else in my life, that will be enough. Thank you for who you've helped me become Dad, and thank you for who you are. I love you more than you can possibly know.
Happy Birthday.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Step By Step
As I sit here tonight, writing my first blog since Christmas day, I have to remind myself that we've been here in Iraq for over 3 months already. The old saying "Time flies when you're having fun" doesn't necessarily apply, because I would hardly call this experience "fun", but I've found that the time is indeed beginning to pass quickly. The irony is that at the same time, it seems like I have been gone forever, and still have an eternity and a day yet to go before I can return home.
More often these days, I am hearing people saying that they're "ready to go home." Who isn't? Sure, I miss my family like crazy. I miss doing the silly little things that most people normally don't even think twice about. I miss being able to go where I want, when I want. I even miss waking up with a little Jaislyn foot in my mouth in the middle of the night, but the fact remains that we're not yet even 1/3 of the way thru this deployment. There is nothing that can be done to shorten our time here (barring serious injury or criminal activity), so we're faced with a choice: We can ignore the calendar and maintain a positive attitude, or we can focus on and complain about things beyond our control. I choose the former, simply because I refuse to sit around and think about being miserable. Depression is a self-sustaining, downward spiral and it can ruin people in a hurry. I think being miserable is in part, a conscious descision. If you focus on the negative, and dismiss the positive, it only stands to reason that you will be unhappy with your situation whatever it may be. It's true, there aren't many positives here, and there are lots of negatives to choose from, but notice the wording..."choose". There ARE positives here, we just have to search for them and be willing to recognize them when we come across them.
Some of the positives I've found here include: The ability to talk to my family and friends on a daily basis; the chance to meet new people and make new friends; the opportunity to go to places most people will never see; the satisfaction I get from doing my job as safely and professionally as possible; the pride I feel in serving our country; the beauty of a sunset; the serenity of a night sky full of stars; the fact that I sleep in a real bed, in my own real room (as opposed to a cot in a tent); and the list goes on.
No, those are not the kinds of positive things most people would focus on. In fact, I'm sure in most normal situations, those are not things most people would even notice at all. It is amazing at how much we take for granted in our daily lives, but being in a situation like mine has a tendency to remind us of all we have to be thankful for, even the little things.
On the last leg of tonight's flight, I was listening to a song called "Jacob's Ladder", and it pretty well summed up my attitude towards this "phase" of my deployment. "All I want for tomorrow is to get it better than today, step by step, one by one, higher and higher." Each day I get thru here is one day that I'm closer to going home and seeing everyone I love again. The more I focus on the positives here, the quicker the time passes, the quicker time passes, the more positives I find. I only wish everyone here was able to see things the same way, and I hope everyone at home can find the positives in this as well.
The real challenge however, is not getting through the next 8 months, the real challenge for me will be staying focused on all the positives that surround me back home, and not taking them for granted. Step by step, one by one.
More often these days, I am hearing people saying that they're "ready to go home." Who isn't? Sure, I miss my family like crazy. I miss doing the silly little things that most people normally don't even think twice about. I miss being able to go where I want, when I want. I even miss waking up with a little Jaislyn foot in my mouth in the middle of the night, but the fact remains that we're not yet even 1/3 of the way thru this deployment. There is nothing that can be done to shorten our time here (barring serious injury or criminal activity), so we're faced with a choice: We can ignore the calendar and maintain a positive attitude, or we can focus on and complain about things beyond our control. I choose the former, simply because I refuse to sit around and think about being miserable. Depression is a self-sustaining, downward spiral and it can ruin people in a hurry. I think being miserable is in part, a conscious descision. If you focus on the negative, and dismiss the positive, it only stands to reason that you will be unhappy with your situation whatever it may be. It's true, there aren't many positives here, and there are lots of negatives to choose from, but notice the wording..."choose". There ARE positives here, we just have to search for them and be willing to recognize them when we come across them.
Some of the positives I've found here include: The ability to talk to my family and friends on a daily basis; the chance to meet new people and make new friends; the opportunity to go to places most people will never see; the satisfaction I get from doing my job as safely and professionally as possible; the pride I feel in serving our country; the beauty of a sunset; the serenity of a night sky full of stars; the fact that I sleep in a real bed, in my own real room (as opposed to a cot in a tent); and the list goes on.
No, those are not the kinds of positive things most people would focus on. In fact, I'm sure in most normal situations, those are not things most people would even notice at all. It is amazing at how much we take for granted in our daily lives, but being in a situation like mine has a tendency to remind us of all we have to be thankful for, even the little things.
On the last leg of tonight's flight, I was listening to a song called "Jacob's Ladder", and it pretty well summed up my attitude towards this "phase" of my deployment. "All I want for tomorrow is to get it better than today, step by step, one by one, higher and higher." Each day I get thru here is one day that I'm closer to going home and seeing everyone I love again. The more I focus on the positives here, the quicker the time passes, the quicker time passes, the more positives I find. I only wish everyone here was able to see things the same way, and I hope everyone at home can find the positives in this as well.
The real challenge however, is not getting through the next 8 months, the real challenge for me will be staying focused on all the positives that surround me back home, and not taking them for granted. Step by step, one by one.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Merry Christmas...
Many people here tried very hard to forget Christmas. For a few, it was just another Christmas in the Army, same as always. For many, it was another day at work in Iraq, but for all of us in some way, it was yet another reminder of all we've left behind.
For me, the day began at midnight, when I went to Midnight Mass here on base. I'd done it once before when I was away from home on Christmas, and it helped a great deal to focus me on the true meaning of this Holiday. It made me stop and take stock and give thanks for the many blessings I've received in this life. This time was no exception. There is something comforting about being around others who are going thru the same thing you are. It's a sense of unspoken understanding and it brings with it a certain feeling of peace and belonging, which is exactly what we're all missing by being away from loved ones. By no means is it an equal substitute but it does fill the void, even if just partially.
At about noon, my neighbors (whom I fly/work with) woke me up to go to Christmas lunch. As with Thanksgiving, this was quite an all-out feast, with anything and everything you could possibly want and then some. The employees of the dining facility, all of whom are foreign nationals (Bangladesh, India, Philipines, Sri Lanka, Uganda), did their very best to get us in the spirit and ensure our needs were met or exceeded. There were elaborate decorations everywhere, and they were all dressed up in their finest native dress clothes. Some danced and sang, some were greeters, some were dressed as Santa, Mrs. Claus or Elves, but all went above and beyond, just for us. I still missed Mom's Lasagne, but thinking about all these people did to try to please us sure helped.
After lunch, it was time to get ready to go fly. I figured the more I had to do/made myself do, the easier and quicker the day would go. True, to some extent, but...
Our offices and halls were all decorated for Christmas, complete with a real Christmas tree and lights all over the place, including on some of the Flight Operations specialists. There were stockings on the wall, some of the office doors were gift wrapped, there were USO Care packages all over the place (THANK YOU!), and dozens if not hundreds of Christmas cards from complete strangers hanging on the walls. On our office door, a certain nameless CW3 with a slightly warped sense of humor hung a nearly blank 8.5 x 11 piece of paper with the words:
For me, the day began at midnight, when I went to Midnight Mass here on base. I'd done it once before when I was away from home on Christmas, and it helped a great deal to focus me on the true meaning of this Holiday. It made me stop and take stock and give thanks for the many blessings I've received in this life. This time was no exception. There is something comforting about being around others who are going thru the same thing you are. It's a sense of unspoken understanding and it brings with it a certain feeling of peace and belonging, which is exactly what we're all missing by being away from loved ones. By no means is it an equal substitute but it does fill the void, even if just partially.
At about noon, my neighbors (whom I fly/work with) woke me up to go to Christmas lunch. As with Thanksgiving, this was quite an all-out feast, with anything and everything you could possibly want and then some. The employees of the dining facility, all of whom are foreign nationals (Bangladesh, India, Philipines, Sri Lanka, Uganda), did their very best to get us in the spirit and ensure our needs were met or exceeded. There were elaborate decorations everywhere, and they were all dressed up in their finest native dress clothes. Some danced and sang, some were greeters, some were dressed as Santa, Mrs. Claus or Elves, but all went above and beyond, just for us. I still missed Mom's Lasagne, but thinking about all these people did to try to please us sure helped.
After lunch, it was time to get ready to go fly. I figured the more I had to do/made myself do, the easier and quicker the day would go. True, to some extent, but...
Our offices and halls were all decorated for Christmas, complete with a real Christmas tree and lights all over the place, including on some of the Flight Operations specialists. There were stockings on the wall, some of the office doors were gift wrapped, there were USO Care packages all over the place (THANK YOU!), and dozens if not hundreds of Christmas cards from complete strangers hanging on the walls. On our office door, a certain nameless CW3 with a slightly warped sense of humor hung a nearly blank 8.5 x 11 piece of paper with the words:
"Christmas Decoration,
Government Issue.
1 Each.
Serial Number:
12-25-2007-00000"
1 Each.
Serial Number:
12-25-2007-00000"
written on it. It seemed appropriate, and about matched my mood at the time.
The preflight period seemed to drag on forever. This was going to be just a milk run out-and-back flight, so nothing unusual or overly exciting needed to be done in preparation. I was ready for the day to be over so I could call home and go to bed.
As we walked out to the airplane, I switched into "fly" mode, and focused on the job at hand and for the first time that day, forgot that it was Christmas. The flight out was uneventful, and we got to witness a beautiful sunset from 26,000'. I handled the radios on this leg, and made sure to wish all the controllers a Merry Christmas. It seemed that some of them had also forgotten, and were glad to hear the reminder.
We landed, took on fuel, loaded our passengers and taxied back out to head "home". I was flying the airplane for the last leg. We climbed up to 29,000' and settled in for the hour and a half flight. Once the climb portion of the flight is complete, there really isn't much to do in the cockpit, so once again I was alone with my thoughts. Tonight my thoughts weren't of what was going on in the towns and villages below (as they normally were), but of what might be going on back at home. What was everyone doing, were they opening gifts, were they laughing, were they enjoying the day as much as I hoped they were? Did they know that I was thinking about them, missing them and loving them? I hope so.
As we droned on, I caught myself staring off into the inky darkness that is Iraq, wondering what this land must have been like over 2000 years ago. Here it was, Christmas day (night), and as the crow flies, I was maybe 200 miles away from Bethlehem at most. Wow. I can't imagine that this region has changed much in those 2000 years, so even back then it probably looked pretty similar to what I was seeing out my cockpit window right now. The night sky was crystal clear and filled with more stars than most people will ever see. There was no moon, but the stars gave off enough light to see the ground below very clearly. As I was sitting there admiring the beautiful tranquility that was before me, "Silent Night" began to play in my headphones. How appropriate. Indeed it was a silent night, and a Holy night. All was calm (at 29,000'), and the stars were bright. I sat in quiet wonder and remembered the Chaplain's reading of the Christmas story, realizing that I was staring out at the very land in which it all took place so long ago. There aren't many people who will ever get to experience what I did that night, and for that gift, I am very grateful.
Merry Christmas from Iraq. May all the joys and blessings of this Holiday season be yours, and may you know the love of friends and family as I do.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Sacrifices
I am constantly amazed and humbled at how much support and thanks we receive not only from family and friends, but also from complete strangers back home. The walls in our hangar offices are literally covered in cards addressed to "American Hero", or "Any Soldier". These cards and letters come from all walks of life, old and young, East and West. No matter who they're from, they all thank us for our service and our sacrifices, and while the thanks are sincerely appreciated, I can't help but think that they're addressed to the wrong people.
When I signed up to do this job nearly 14 years ago, I knew that being sent to any one of a number of foreign countries was a likely eventuality. It wasn't really a matter of "if", but "when". I considered my options, and willingly signed on the dotted line. When Jamie agreed to marry me, she knew the possibility existed that I would be sent overseas. She agreed by default to my being in the military, and therefore to her own being in the military. To quote a favorite childhood cartoon of mine ("Super Chicken"), we both "knew the job was dangerous when we took it."
Jaislyn on the other hand, had no choice in the matter, and did not agree to anything. She does not understand where I am, why I am here, when I will return, and most importantly, why I am not there with her. People tell me that 2 year olds do not comprehend such things, and that "she'll be fine". I'm sure in time this will prove true, but at the moment, she comprehends much more than most people give her credit for, and she turns to me for answers I cannot give her.
In talking to her last night, she got on the phone, briefly told me about her day and what she did, and then wasted no time in asking "Dada are you coming home this week?" I could hear the hopeful anticipation in her voice as she waited for my answer. It absolutely broke my heart (and hers too) to tell her that "Dada had to stay at work for a very long time." She was noticeably disappointed by my answer, as she had obviously been waiting to ask me that question for some time. She didn't even ask why, altho I could tell she was wondering. She just said "ok." in a very dejected tone of voice. It was of little consolation when I told her that I loved her and missed her more than anything in the world. She was yet again left to wonder to herself why her Dada wasn't there with her. She doesn't yet know the words necessary to get the proper answers to the questions she has in her head, so people just assume she doesn't have any, but she does. It's obvious every time I talk to her. It's obvious when she goes and hugs my truck, because it is the closest thing she has to me. It's obvious when she stops talking to me and hugs the phone "like a baby". She knows what is happening, she just doesn't know why and cannot yet fully express her feelings on the subject. I can't imagine what that would be like. I remember when I was very young (probably 4 or 5) and my Father went out of town on short business trips. I was completely traumatized, and wondered when and if he would ever come home. Even a weekend trip seemed like an eternity at that age. I've been away from Jaislyn for over a month now, with another 5 1/2 to go before I see her, and another 10+ to go before this oddysey is complete. I can only guess the things that are and will be running thru her little head in that time. I hope someday I can sit down with her and show her these posts, and explain to her where I went and why. That is the real reason for this blog.
My choices and my career have taken me away from my daughter at an age when she has all kinds of questions, but very few answers. I often lie in bed and wonder if I've made the right choices, and wonder if she'll ever forgive me for leaving her. Will she understand some day?
People thank me for my sacrifices, but I'm not the one making them. I made a career choice. Jamie and Jaislyn made the sacrifice. Jaislyn is the one making the biggest sacrifice because she had no choice. I have nothing but the highest respect for anyone who is a member of a military family, but military kids are without a doubt the ones who make the biggest sacrifices and get the least credit.
I Love You Jaislyn...
When I signed up to do this job nearly 14 years ago, I knew that being sent to any one of a number of foreign countries was a likely eventuality. It wasn't really a matter of "if", but "when". I considered my options, and willingly signed on the dotted line. When Jamie agreed to marry me, she knew the possibility existed that I would be sent overseas. She agreed by default to my being in the military, and therefore to her own being in the military. To quote a favorite childhood cartoon of mine ("Super Chicken"), we both "knew the job was dangerous when we took it."
Jaislyn on the other hand, had no choice in the matter, and did not agree to anything. She does not understand where I am, why I am here, when I will return, and most importantly, why I am not there with her. People tell me that 2 year olds do not comprehend such things, and that "she'll be fine". I'm sure in time this will prove true, but at the moment, she comprehends much more than most people give her credit for, and she turns to me for answers I cannot give her.
In talking to her last night, she got on the phone, briefly told me about her day and what she did, and then wasted no time in asking "Dada are you coming home this week?" I could hear the hopeful anticipation in her voice as she waited for my answer. It absolutely broke my heart (and hers too) to tell her that "Dada had to stay at work for a very long time." She was noticeably disappointed by my answer, as she had obviously been waiting to ask me that question for some time. She didn't even ask why, altho I could tell she was wondering. She just said "ok." in a very dejected tone of voice. It was of little consolation when I told her that I loved her and missed her more than anything in the world. She was yet again left to wonder to herself why her Dada wasn't there with her. She doesn't yet know the words necessary to get the proper answers to the questions she has in her head, so people just assume she doesn't have any, but she does. It's obvious every time I talk to her. It's obvious when she goes and hugs my truck, because it is the closest thing she has to me. It's obvious when she stops talking to me and hugs the phone "like a baby". She knows what is happening, she just doesn't know why and cannot yet fully express her feelings on the subject. I can't imagine what that would be like. I remember when I was very young (probably 4 or 5) and my Father went out of town on short business trips. I was completely traumatized, and wondered when and if he would ever come home. Even a weekend trip seemed like an eternity at that age. I've been away from Jaislyn for over a month now, with another 5 1/2 to go before I see her, and another 10+ to go before this oddysey is complete. I can only guess the things that are and will be running thru her little head in that time. I hope someday I can sit down with her and show her these posts, and explain to her where I went and why. That is the real reason for this blog.
My choices and my career have taken me away from my daughter at an age when she has all kinds of questions, but very few answers. I often lie in bed and wonder if I've made the right choices, and wonder if she'll ever forgive me for leaving her. Will she understand some day?
People thank me for my sacrifices, but I'm not the one making them. I made a career choice. Jamie and Jaislyn made the sacrifice. Jaislyn is the one making the biggest sacrifice because she had no choice. I have nothing but the highest respect for anyone who is a member of a military family, but military kids are without a doubt the ones who make the biggest sacrifices and get the least credit.
I Love You Jaislyn...
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