88. Night Sky

"When you commit U.S. forces, you need to understand that there could be a cost. It is combat, and you need to be ready to stand by those decisions. When you commit U.S. forces to combat, there are bills to be paid." 

~COL (Ret.) Tom Matthews, on Operation Gothic Serpent (Somalia, 1993)

A wise man once said that the world will break your heart three ways to Sunday - that's guaranteed. 13 Soldiers died in Afghanistan this past week...and I've been sitting here worrying about final exams. If that doesn't put things in perspective, I don't know what does. The irony of it almost speaks for itself - a couple of days ago when I mentioned to someone that I was deploying to Afghanistan this summer, they said, "oh, how terrible! But we're pulling out soon, right? And things are a lot better there now too, aren't they?" Yeah, sure, of course - try telling that the to families of those 13 Soldiers. Just because you don't hear about it anymore on the news doesn't mean it's not happening.

For those who know to never say never, it's easy for us to get caught up in the little stuff because it gives us a good excuse to distract ourselves from the big stuff we can't change. Seriously, I sometimes throw a stupid, irrational mental temper tantrum and think to myself, "my husband died...and now I have to deal with something as ridiculous as a speeding ticket or a car problem or a broken phone/etc.?" But the truth is that everything seems ridiculous after your husband dies. And I'm still human. I can forgive myself for being a little childish sometimes as long as I remember at the end of the day what really matters. When I saw that number reported in the news, I literally just started to cry. I didn't know any of the 13 Soldiers, but I do know what their families are going through now and my heart breaks for them. Although I should have been studying at the time, I gave myself a quick emotional time-out to pay tribute to what's really important.

A good widow friend of mine recent told me that she still wishes her husband were here with her more than she wishes she were here. Particularly after this last week, her words struck a chord with me - I don't think I could have said it better myself. It made me think a lot about my own future and the constant uncertainty of everything. I've barely had time to contemplate my upcoming deployment in the midst of the craziness of the Veterans Project launch and final exams, but now it's suddenly sinking in . . . and I hope I don't get there and panic. It's not that I'm afraid of anything happening to me. Why would I be? The worst has already happened, and Jon will be waiting for me in a better place until it's my time to join him there. Plus, I'm a Soldier, and I volunteered for this, knowing all too well what I was getting myself into. People get all wrapped around the axle when it comes to saying these kinds of things out loud for fear of sounding morbid, but believe me, avoiding it is not going to make it go away. We are so good at compartmentalizing the realities we don't want to face. And yet if you're the one who's left behind and you don't take advantage of the opportunity to talk about the "what ifs" with the people you love while you still have time, you'll find yourself wishing you could turn back the clock. The way I see it, if it's my time, it's my time...and besides, I do believe in heaven, and I know Jon is already there waiting for me. What I don't want is to get to over there and have a PTSD-like freak-out moment where I think, "oh God, I can't do this." Fortunately, I do have enough experience at this point to understand how the battle between my brain and heart will usually play out. I've now faced many of the issues I tried to bury for years, and I know the triggers. I just have to be sure I listen to them - they're always there for a reason.

Many years ago, Marcus Aurelius, former head of the Roman Empire, told us all to dwell on the beauty of life. He told us to watch the stars and see ourselves running with them. I hope I can see the stars in Afghanistan. I imagine there might be a night or two (or three or four...) when I look up at the night sky, find the brightest star, and ask Jon to please be with me and tell me what to do. Luckily, he's never let me down yet. And somehow I doubt he's going to start now.