Thursday, April 08, 2004
Sadness
Last night, as Paul and I were putting on our jackets to go to the grocery store, my phone rang and my dad left a message on our answering machine:
“Joe, this is your father. I have a question I need you to ask your brother when he calls you tomorrow. It’s incredibly important.”
My jaw immediately clenched shut as I thought about what my dad was going to say. I was so shocked by the message that I told Paul that I didn’t want to call him back, at least not until after we went grocery shopping. We finished getting ready and stepped out the front door.
As we walked to the store, Paul handed me the phone and before I could resist any further, he dialed the number to my home. My dad answered immediately and we had the following conversation:
Dad: “I have some potentially bad news.”
Me: “Oh no, what is it?”
Dad: “There is a high chance that Winfield will not be coming home for his May visit. There has been an uprising in Baghdad that has caused leave cancellation for many different military personnel.”
Me: “You mean, he’s not coming home anymore?”
Dad: “It’s very possible. (choking on sobs) Winfield told us that he will call you tomorrow. He will not be able to tell you details, but you need to ask him one question for us. “Have the plans changed?”
Me: “I don’t understand. He’s just not coming home now?”
Dad: “That seems to be the case, but we won’t know for sure until he calls you tomorrow.”
Me: (shocked) “Ok. I will ask him that question when he calls.”
Dad: (crying hard) “Thanks Joe. Call me as soon as you know. Please.”
Me: “I will.”
I hung up the phone and stood in the middle of the street for a minute. I felt as though my world totally caved in out of nowhere. Paul was waiting for me on the corner and he asked what was wrong. I told him what my dad said and he offered to go sit somewhere to discuss it. I refused and told him that we should continue on with our night as best as we could.
We began walking around the grocery store and when we ended up in the bread isle, I lost it. The sobs came hard and fast and I felt as though I was going to pass out. Paul immediately wrapped his arms around me in the store and we both stood there and cried for a couple of minutes; neither of us saying anything. Just hugging and crying.
Eventually we got ourselves together and finished our shopping.
This morning I woke up at 4am with a pit in my stomach. I laid there for hours thinking about my brother and how upset he must be. I didn’t know how I could go to work. I wanted nothing more than to stay home and stare at the wall. I felt horribly depressed.
When I got to work, my dad called and told me that Winfield had called him at home this morning to tell him that he is definitely not coming home in May. His tour of duty has been extended for at least another 6 months. He will be leaving Baghdad as scheduled and will go on a field mission for a while. As far as I know, he will be unable to contact us during this time. (For the news story relating to this post, click here.)
My brother has been in Iraq for 13 months. I have not seen nor hugged him in over a year. Now it seems as though I won’t be able to share these moments with him for quite a bit longer. We had planned his entire visit, reserved hotel rooms, bought theatre tickets, and put our hearts into it. Now, it’s just not happening.
There’s not much else I can say about it except that I feel as though my heart has completely broken. My parents have left work and are sitting at home right now bawling their eyes out. I am supposed to go home tomorrow to be with them for Easter. It is sure to be a miserable trip.
I am not angry at the military right now, nor am I angry at anyone. I just feel defeated. As I said to my mom this morning “There is only so much one family can take.”
And now we continue on as we did before…
Last night, as Paul and I were putting on our jackets to go to the grocery store, my phone rang and my dad left a message on our answering machine:
“Joe, this is your father. I have a question I need you to ask your brother when he calls you tomorrow. It’s incredibly important.”
My jaw immediately clenched shut as I thought about what my dad was going to say. I was so shocked by the message that I told Paul that I didn’t want to call him back, at least not until after we went grocery shopping. We finished getting ready and stepped out the front door.
As we walked to the store, Paul handed me the phone and before I could resist any further, he dialed the number to my home. My dad answered immediately and we had the following conversation:
Dad: “I have some potentially bad news.”
Me: “Oh no, what is it?”
Dad: “There is a high chance that Winfield will not be coming home for his May visit. There has been an uprising in Baghdad that has caused leave cancellation for many different military personnel.”
Me: “You mean, he’s not coming home anymore?”
Dad: “It’s very possible. (choking on sobs) Winfield told us that he will call you tomorrow. He will not be able to tell you details, but you need to ask him one question for us. “Have the plans changed?”
Me: “I don’t understand. He’s just not coming home now?”
Dad: “That seems to be the case, but we won’t know for sure until he calls you tomorrow.”
Me: (shocked) “Ok. I will ask him that question when he calls.”
Dad: (crying hard) “Thanks Joe. Call me as soon as you know. Please.”
Me: “I will.”
I hung up the phone and stood in the middle of the street for a minute. I felt as though my world totally caved in out of nowhere. Paul was waiting for me on the corner and he asked what was wrong. I told him what my dad said and he offered to go sit somewhere to discuss it. I refused and told him that we should continue on with our night as best as we could.
We began walking around the grocery store and when we ended up in the bread isle, I lost it. The sobs came hard and fast and I felt as though I was going to pass out. Paul immediately wrapped his arms around me in the store and we both stood there and cried for a couple of minutes; neither of us saying anything. Just hugging and crying.
Eventually we got ourselves together and finished our shopping.
This morning I woke up at 4am with a pit in my stomach. I laid there for hours thinking about my brother and how upset he must be. I didn’t know how I could go to work. I wanted nothing more than to stay home and stare at the wall. I felt horribly depressed.
When I got to work, my dad called and told me that Winfield had called him at home this morning to tell him that he is definitely not coming home in May. His tour of duty has been extended for at least another 6 months. He will be leaving Baghdad as scheduled and will go on a field mission for a while. As far as I know, he will be unable to contact us during this time. (For the news story relating to this post, click here.)
My brother has been in Iraq for 13 months. I have not seen nor hugged him in over a year. Now it seems as though I won’t be able to share these moments with him for quite a bit longer. We had planned his entire visit, reserved hotel rooms, bought theatre tickets, and put our hearts into it. Now, it’s just not happening.
There’s not much else I can say about it except that I feel as though my heart has completely broken. My parents have left work and are sitting at home right now bawling their eyes out. I am supposed to go home tomorrow to be with them for Easter. It is sure to be a miserable trip.
I am not angry at the military right now, nor am I angry at anyone. I just feel defeated. As I said to my mom this morning “There is only so much one family can take.”
And now we continue on as we did before…
