The Worst Best Thing They Can Do

I got off the airplane and started walking down the hall. The last three days had gone by relatively smoothly. I had left Baghdad and was well on my way to my long awaited R&R. The trip out of Iraq for a soldier is not what one would call an easy thing. It starts with a midnight ride to the airport on the lovely little rhino. (We all know how much I love that thing...just check out my post entitled "What Day is it Anyway?") It is then followed by two to three days in Kuwait...mostly waiting and doing nothing...except going through customs and then being locked into a containment area so that you can't sneak in veggies or illegal porn. Other than that it isn't too bad.

I was excited beyond words. I had been waiting to see this day for seven months now. It was the longest that my wife and I had been apart since we had met. As I walked through the security check point, I saw her. She was beautiful. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again...and I fell in love one more time.

She smiled at me and I smiled right back. Then we put our arms around each other and just stood there...enjoying the moment. It felt so good to be back with someone I truly cared about. After we finally let each other go, it was time to go surprise the kids. They didn't know that I was coming home and I couldn't wait to see their faces.

My wife dropped me at the house and I went and waited in the living room. She picked the kids up from daycare and told them she had a big surprise at home. They came in and began to look for their surprise. My son found the Mac and Cheese that my mother in law had left for me and asked in a disappointed voice, "Is that it?" I had to force myself not to laugh out loud...but then they came around the corner and saw me.

My son screamed, then looked closer and realized it was me. "Daddy?" he asked...almost not sure what to do. That lasted about half a second. He jumped on me and began laughing...I cried.

My daughter just stood there for a minute, smiling...but still not sure what to do. I looked her in the eye and said..."Come here, Poodle." She laughed and ran up and hugged me. She didn't let go for three days.

It was wonderful...and strange all at the same time. Things were almost too normal. By that, I mean that I was not used to being in a place where it seemed like everyone actually wanted me to be there. It is hard over here in Baghdad because it really doesn't seem like anyone cares about the individual. But here I was, at home and everyone wanted me there. It took a while for me to let my guard down...I was a bit defensive when I shouldn't have been.

After a few days, though...It was back to normal. It also struck me how much I had missed the quiet. When the lights went out that first night home and we were laying there about to go to sleep...there was no noise. It caught me off guard. I am used to the sound of my AC/Heater vibrating the whole trailer...or the distant (or not so distant) sounds of a gun battle lulling me to sleep. There was not an explosion to be heard, nor helicopter over head. I fell asleep smiling that night.

The Friday before Christmas we hosted a little get together at my house so that all my friends could come and tell me how much they love me!!!! It was fun. I enjoyed getting to see everyone that I had missed for the last seven months and just relax and talk....Reminisce about the fun we all had. One of my friends that showed up was a guy that I hadn't seen in nearly a decade. Again it was just great to relax and have fun...and feel like I was actually wanted.

Christmas eve came and that means a trip down to my parents house. We loaded up the van and headed south into Virginia to spend the night and then go to Christmas Eve services at the church I grew up in.

The plan was for my wife and I to spend the evening in a hotel room while the kids had a sleep over with Nana and Pappy. I think it was too much for the kids...they didn't want me to go away again...and they let us know it. At first I was very upset. You see, my dates for R&R had changed, and I was home earlier than I had originally planned. This put me home more than a week before I wanted to be...which means my wife had to continue to work for the first week that I was home and the kids still went to school and daycare.

So...I was very upset because this meant that my wife and I wouldn't get a night to ourselves the whole time I was home. We still went out to dinner, and talked. She did that thing she is so good at...and made me realize that it wasn't the end of the world. I calmed down...and we went back to my parents and had a great time.

Then it was Christmas eve, and that means Church and then the drive home. My kids were great...a bit ansy...but good overall. We got home and my wife and I put the kids to bed and then did the "Santa thing" and put out the remainder of the gifts. This ALWAYS entails me putting together some complicated toy of some sort for one or both of the kids. This year it was soccer goals for my son...It took me about half an hour to put eight pieces of tubing and a net together!

Christmas morning...it is a magical and wonderful day...children smile and laugh...and wake their parents up way too early. I love it. For us...there are two stages to Christmas morning. First...we open gifts at our house, then we move over to my wife's parents' house and open gifts there, followed by the best brunch of the year. This year, Christmas morning lived up to all my expectations.

The best gift I could have received was the opportunity to come home during this time of year. There are so many of us that serve that did not get the opportunity and had to spend the holidays overseas. I am so grateful that I could go home and be with those that mean the most to me in the whole world. It was as perfect a Christmas as I could wish for...and I thank my family for making it so.

I love you all so much.

Which brings me to the irony in all of this. The one thing that could take the euphoric feelings and happy emotions and stomp all over them was looming on the horizon. My kids could tell. They knew that this was a special trip and Daddy was not home for good. And, the night before I left...it showed.

My son got out of bed about four times, with various excuses...but every time my wife and I could tell that he was making sure I was still there. I went back in his room with him and laid down after the last time and promised him that I wouldn't leave without telling him.

My daughter called me in about three or four times as well. One time she was crying and said she had a bad dream. I asked what her dream was about. She told me, "I dreamed you went back to Iraq already." Again, I laid with her and gave her the same assurances.

My heart was broken...but I knew from the beginning that this was how it would be. I laid next to my wife, with her in my arms and just wished that I could stop time. I had missed having her close to me for so long, and now that we were getting used to each other again, I had to go.

What this vacation has done for me is something I can never let go...and it is what will keep me going for the remainder of my tour. It has cemented in my heart and my mind the relationship that my wife and I have...the love I have for my children and they for me...and my place in the world.

Everything I do, is for my family. They are the reason I get up in the mornings and do what I do everyday. I love them like I have never loved before and that love seems to grow more everyday.

While getting back on that airplane was not as difficult this time as the first, it was still one of the hardest things for me to do. My children handled it better...at least as I boarded. They looked very sad, and I could barely look into their eyes. I could see how much I was hurting them by leaving again. The only comfort I had was knowing that this time was a bit shorter than the first.

So...while going home was the best and most needed thing that I could have done...leaving them again was the worst. It is strange...taking leave, that is much needed...and the level of emotional "roller coasterness" that you are sent through. (Not to mention that I...being six and a half feet tall...was shoved in the last seat of the airplane for the twenty hour journey from Atlanta to Kuwait...and then froze to death in Kuwait for two days until I got my flight to Baghdad.)

I think that I would have been a miserable bastard if I had not taken my R&R. However, I think it may have also been easier not to go...because I would not have had to leave my family again. As much as it is needed...it almost seems like a double edged sword. YES...I am so very happy that I got to go home and see my family...but I am heart-broken that I had to leave and hurt them all over again. This is why the R&R program is the Worst Best thing they can do.

SFC Newman
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