Thursday, May 13, 2004
My Brother Was Supposed to Come Home Today
I’ve been dreading this day for weeks. It could have been such an exciting couple of days for me, but instead, I’m doing my best to pretend as though Winfield was scheduled to stay in Iraq all along. I had a very long talk with him yesterday that resulted in 30 minutes of sobbing. It was not the way I wanted to end my day.
Winfield is carrying a lot of anger with him these days. He is furious with the ARMY for extending his leave. He is furious with the soldiers who tortured the Iraqi prisoners. He is at his wits end and he is looking to take out this frustration and anger on anyone who crosses his path. I tried (as best as I could) to diffuse his fury bomb, but there wasn’t much I could do. Eventually I just cried and cried and cried.
The two of us decided that there are two positives that we can look forward to amidst all of this negative.
1) Winfield is, without a doubt, leaving the service next May. His time is done. He has served his country, succeeding in ways that we never thought possible. He no longer agrees with what the military is doing and he wants no part of it. He is exhausted and needs a break. As he said to me yesterday “His life has been on hold for far too long. It’s time to pick up where he left off over 3 years ago”.
2) Each day of hell is one day closer to heaven. We are (VERY tentatively) planning his homecoming for early August. My family is very cautious about getting any sort of hopes up, since last time it took us weeks to get over the disappointment. In fact, none of us are fully over that disappointment yet. It’s like an aching that never goes away.
As we got off the phone, my eyes completely swollen, Winfield said “I miss you so much Joe. You are my best friend and I know we’ll pick up where we left off.” I choked on my last remaining tears and told him to “Be safe” and to “call soon”.
After that conversation I wanted nothing, but to leave work. I stuck it out for about an hour more and took off as soon as I could get the chance.
What these soldiers do on a daily basis is something that I will never understand, although it consumes my thoughts throughout each day. I wish I had the bravery that these men possess. For the rest of my life I will live with the highest respect for our military and the families and friends that are left behind.
It’s an experience that changes lives forever.
I’ve been dreading this day for weeks. It could have been such an exciting couple of days for me, but instead, I’m doing my best to pretend as though Winfield was scheduled to stay in Iraq all along. I had a very long talk with him yesterday that resulted in 30 minutes of sobbing. It was not the way I wanted to end my day.
Winfield is carrying a lot of anger with him these days. He is furious with the ARMY for extending his leave. He is furious with the soldiers who tortured the Iraqi prisoners. He is at his wits end and he is looking to take out this frustration and anger on anyone who crosses his path. I tried (as best as I could) to diffuse his fury bomb, but there wasn’t much I could do. Eventually I just cried and cried and cried.
The two of us decided that there are two positives that we can look forward to amidst all of this negative.
1) Winfield is, without a doubt, leaving the service next May. His time is done. He has served his country, succeeding in ways that we never thought possible. He no longer agrees with what the military is doing and he wants no part of it. He is exhausted and needs a break. As he said to me yesterday “His life has been on hold for far too long. It’s time to pick up where he left off over 3 years ago”.
2) Each day of hell is one day closer to heaven. We are (VERY tentatively) planning his homecoming for early August. My family is very cautious about getting any sort of hopes up, since last time it took us weeks to get over the disappointment. In fact, none of us are fully over that disappointment yet. It’s like an aching that never goes away.
As we got off the phone, my eyes completely swollen, Winfield said “I miss you so much Joe. You are my best friend and I know we’ll pick up where we left off.” I choked on my last remaining tears and told him to “Be safe” and to “call soon”.
After that conversation I wanted nothing, but to leave work. I stuck it out for about an hour more and took off as soon as I could get the chance.
What these soldiers do on a daily basis is something that I will never understand, although it consumes my thoughts throughout each day. I wish I had the bravery that these men possess. For the rest of my life I will live with the highest respect for our military and the families and friends that are left behind.
It’s an experience that changes lives forever.
