Posted on 11/26/2005 11:18:00 PM PST by Keyes2000mt
The last few days have gone by maddeningly fast. But I knew they would, and kept telling myself to expect it. Tomorrow will be my last day with my family prior to reporting for active duty and deployment to Iraq. We've been told that there will be a few days leave at Christmas to return home from our pre-deployment work-ups, but as with most things military, I believe nothing I hear and only half of what I see. I'm preparing myself for tomorrow to be it. It's time to put my money where my mouth is.
Last Sunday I went in for shift change at the Sheriff's Office to say so-long to all the guys, and to turn in my patrol car and gear (why they made me turn in all that stuff for a military leave of absence I'll never know- I told 'em they'd better be expecting me back in about a year). Several fellow deputies with tours under their belts as Marines made a special point to pull me aside, shake my hand, and let me know that my home will be watched, and my family will be well cared for under any circumstance. God bless them.
On Monday the countdown began. One week to spend with my family and wrap up all the lose ends. Things that I've been meaning to do for weeks or months, that now cause me a sense of panic at the thought of them being undone and my wife left to deal with them alone. Household chores, financial matters, vehicle maintenance, etc.
First thing Monday morning, my wife and I went to the lawyer's office to file our Last Will and Testament. I also filed a living will, durable power of attorney for health care, and a general power of attorney. I know the military would have done all of this for me, but I was willing to pay for a local attorney. After learning of my deployment, he wouldn't accept payment. God bless him, too.
The remainder of the week was spent on miscellaneous tasks of no real significance, with one notable exception: I installed a new, high-quality flag pole and mounting bracket for the house, and a brand new flag to replace the old one.
Of course there was a big Thanksgiving dinner at my parent's home, with my brother (who is deploying with me) and his wife in attendance. When my cousin asked for the blessing, he naturally asked for God to be with us as we embark upon our tour. After we said, "Amen," my mother left the room with tears in her eyes. Something got in mine, too.
Later in the evening, my brother and I presented her a Service Flag with two blue stars on it.
The day after Thanksgiving was off the cuff. On a whim, I asked my wife if she wanted to go ahead and break out the Christmas lights. We never put them up this early, but the thought of her climbing into the attic and wrestling all that stuff down worried me. So I strung the house with lights, hung wreaths on all the windows and played with my three year old son in the yard. When it got dark, I let him plug in the lights. The look on his face made me thankful that we decided to go ahead and put them up.
Now it's late in the evening. I carried my three year old to bed, limp and dead weight after he fell asleep on the sofa under his blankie with a stuffed dog that I brought home from the state police academy for him. After tucking him in, I tip-toed out of his room and then knelt by the cradle that held my newborn son, sleeping as only an infant can, humming softly with every breath, God's own picture of peace.
And in a few minutes I'll lie down next to my darling wife, who has been stronger throughout this whole ordeal than I ever thought she could be. I have not once seen the slightest hint of apprehension, and she is not one to hide it very well. It's as if she's drawing from an inner strength that I didn't know was there. It's uncanny. It must come from motherhood.
I find myself at an odd place, psychologically. Just a few short years ago, I was a military veteran, off-contract, trying to get used to growing my hair out a little and working a job like everyone else. Starting a family. Buying a new home. Taking pleasure in simple things like overseeding the lawn and researching when I should prune the azaleas. I talked at the fence with my neighbor, and occasionally caught myself saying, "Back when I was in The Corps...". I was knee deep in The American Dream.
And now here I am, 35 years old with a young family, a home, and a dog. The house needs new gutters, the lawn still needs to be overseeded, I forgot to change the oil in my wife's car, the garage needs to be cleaned out, and I'm down to just a few hours left before I put on those cammies again- this time for the real deal. I catch myself savoring every little giggle from my son, every goo from my baby, every caress from my wife. I float around the house in a sort of mental fog, living almost in the present, but mostly in the future. I feel remarkably calm, but with an impending sense of something... I just don't know what.
Whatever the case may be, and despite the heartache of leaving my family, I do know this: I'm eager to be about the business of being a Marine.
Semper Fi.
He's pretty much on the same mission he had here as a cop. Protect citizens from outlaws. Of course with many times more murders happening here in the USA per year than happens in Iraq , and no exit strategy for the police, he's use to "quigmires".
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.