Friends in Strange Places ...

It’s amazing how much can change in 84 hours … 84 hours ago, I was in Camp Liberty in Baghdad getting ready to walk to the gym for a well deserved workout … all things were somewhat normal in my life. 84 hours later, my father has passed, I’m in Atlanta helping my sister and mother deal with it, and I’ve eaten enough chicken to kill a horse (more later). The whole thing is kind of surreal … I’m not going to talk about my dad today, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I want to focus on the friends you find along the way.

I was getting ready to walk to the workout when I was summoned to the JCCS-1 building. The CDR who came to get me was great, he knew that I was going to get bad news, but he kept the conversation light. He told me that there had been an emergency and I needed to call home. My first thoughts were of my VERY pregnant wife or my kids. I worried on this for a short time, then my common sense took hold and reminded me that if it was them, I wouldn’t be calling HOME … they wouldn’t be there. At that point, I knew it was my dad. He’s struggled with some medical issues for about six years, and I wasn’t completely surprised (Like said, I’ll pass on thoughts of him later, I just don’t think I’m ready to put them down on paper yet … go figure). When I was informed of my dad’s passing, the folks at JCCS-1 rolled into action. I can’t thank them enough, they had me set to get home before I was even off the phone with my wife. To make a long story short (too late), three plane rides, three bus rides and 46 hours later, I was in Atlanta with my mother and sister (my wife and kids will arrive tomorrow). This is where it gets interesting.

I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before. Both of my grandfathers died before I was born, and everyone else that was close to me (two grandmothers and two uncles) died while I was deployed. My mother was shocked to hear that this would be the first funeral I have ever attended. I’ve been to memorials for an uncle and quite a few fellow aviators who have lost their lives while in the line of duty, but never to an actual funeral. I was amazed at how our friends and family reacted to this. My sister has a group of friends that anyone would be proud to call their own. These girls were over at the house within minutes of being informed and stayed until they knew my mom and sister were going to be okay. My favorite is my sister’s friend Laura … the lawyer. Laura is the lawyer among us (and she's the type of lawyer NOT to be messed with). When the official type folks (EMT, medical examiner, funeral home personnel) came to my mom with paperwork to sign (release of the body, etc), Laura was in there like a hawk, reviewing the documents, making sure my mom wasn’t signing anything she shouldn’t. To this day, Laura is my favorite person to debate with about almost any issue (don’t mess with her on religion though … minister for a dad … she’s a tiger). These ladies who call themselves my sister’s friends (my sister likes to say, ”I got lucky in that department”) have earned themselves a special place in heaven. They are of the highest caliber, and deserve accolades. I hope someday that someone will look at me and say that I was that type of friend. If that is the case, then I’ve been a success in my life … that’s how great these girls are. I’m proud to say that they are my friends as well, just not to the level that they are my sisters.

Shortly after the word began to spread, our neighbors (I should say friends there as well) joined in the fray. I like to refer to this as the ‘time of the Jews.’ Some of you may find that offensive, but if you grew up in my neighborhood, you’d understand that it is the utmost reverence that I refer to these folks. I grew up in a neighborhood where I had, seemingly, as many Jewish neighbor as Catholic/Christian ones. I was well versed in the rites of the Jewish faith as a kid (to this day, I love matzoh bread and smile when I hear the horn blown on Rosh Hashanah). I really think that my exposure to multiple religions as a child made me a better person as an adult. Having some background in different faiths mad me understand how we are special, each in our own way. Our neighbor Debbie is the perfect example of this. I’ve known Mrs. L. for almost thirty years and she is a special today as she was in 1977. Debbie thrust herself into the forefront and let folks know that she would be coordinating all of the food for the next week. That may sound weird to some of y’all, but to us, it was a godsend. People call to ask what they can bring, and we give them her number. The amount of stress that she has taken on is amazing (thus lifting us of the stress). When I asked her about it, she said, “We’re Jews, this is what we do … we feed you during the time you need feeding.” That may seem trite and insensitive to some, but I really look at it as, they are feeding us during our time of need. The food isn’t always food you eat, sometimes it’s food for the soul. Sometimes the simple act of being there is enough. The Jews have had thousands of years of practice, and in my opinion, they’re pretty damn good. I will come away from this with a whole new respect for our neighbors. They truly buy into the concept of ‘giving forward.’ When you give this now, you will get it in return someday. I cannot thank them enough for the love they have shown us … it’s beyond anything I could have ever imagined. With that said, we have received meals enough to feed a small kingdom in a third-world nation (with a lot of chicken ... don't get me wrong, we love it ... when you're grieving ... it's all fat-free, lol).

Needless to say, it’s been a long two days. The list of thank’s is way too long for just my simple blog, but I’ll try. I want to send out thanks to a few special folks who have been here for us (not just today, but in the past as well). First to my sister’s friends: Laura, Susan, Allison (the really nice one … only Allison will understand that), Tom, Larry, Michelle, all the others, and all of Lisa’s friends at work … thanks, you people have been her rock for the last six years, and beyond that. God bless all of you. To our neighbors: Debbie, Rosalyn, Saul, Mike, Janet, and all the other residents of North Wellington, past and present who have been with us in the last few days … God bless you too. To my mom’s work friends: thank you for being her strength during the last few years. Finally to my friends: Dave, Tom, all the folks stuck in Iraq, and the rest who I can’t remember right now. Thank you for being there when we(I) needed it so much. To these and all the others who I forgot to mention … thank you from my mother, sister and I. The next few days will be hard for us, but your thoughts, efforts and presence make all of it easier. Know that you will all have a special place in our hearts. With that, I think I should cut it off here. I think I’ll leave you with my father’s favorite (and most important) prayer:

The Serenity Prayer

God, Grant me the serenity to
accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change
the things I can,

And the wisdom
To know the difference

-Grease out.

R.I.P. - T.F.D. 31 Dec 1938 - 01 Mar 2007