I'm surprised you remembered that I liked the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem. I only recited it a million time. the email started. It had been a couple of weeks since I last heard from Tariq. While I knew that he was in a war and couldn't write me as much as I could him, there was a part of me that thought that my last email may have scared him off.
Today wasn't a good day. We lost a guy. IED. The truck just ahead of us exploded into pieces. Surprised anyone survived it, but of the 4 men in that truck, 3 did. We were scared, but none of us dared to show it. Scream (our Staff Sergeant) was calm...It's like he'd been in a firefight his entire life and knew what to do and how to do it. It seemed as though it were just the 5 of us (Me, Smoke, Dim, Scream, and Angel) against the whole goddamned Iraqi army. I got hit, but it was an in and out of my calf. Hurts like all holy hell, but I'll survive. I'll tell you this much, it'll leave one hell of a hole. Scream gets a kick out of it. He thinks I'm lucky. I was shot once before, but my Kevlar vest stopped the bullet from doing anything worse than knocking the wind out of me. He seems to think I was born under a lucky sign. Maybe he's right.
Anyhow, we'll be going out tomorrow again. Good will shit...throwing candy to kids...help guard a mosque. We'll help with the rebuilding of a school...which I'm really excited about. This is stuff the news, the American media, says nothing of. Why? Because they hate our President and they lump us in with him. That's a whole other issue that I don't want to get into right now, so let me leave you with this final thought:
Not all angels have wings
Not all angels are heaven bound
There are angels among us
Their feet solid on the ground
Not all angels fly
Not all angels fall from the sky
Not every angel comes from out of the blue
I know this because my angel is you.
Always...Riqy
I smiled at his final thought. Tariq was always so good at writing songs, poems, stories. Anything he got the urge to write, he did and he did well. I knew he'd one day write a novel about what he saw and did in Iraq.
Ah, Dawson! I see you've not lost your touch in your writing. That was beautiful. Can I copy it and send it back to you? I wish I had your ability to write such lovely things, but no! I'm the crap one! But, I've got one for you:
Roses are red
Violets are blue (but are they really and if they are blue, why do we call them violets?)
You're in Iraq
And I miss you!
I KNOW! It's stupid, but it's all this blonde haired Irish/Italian can come up with.
Work was a little difficult today. A young boy, no older than 7, was brought in with a GSW to his ab. We tried and did all we could, but we lost him. The hardest thing to do is to tell parents they've lost their child. He had five other siblings, but that doesn't make his loss any easier. Dr. Biliecki left it to me to tell the parents. He was too disturbed as to why this little boy was shot. His dad left a loaded gun out where his kids could get it. Why don't parents think, Riqy? I grew up with guns. You grew up with guns, but they were NO WHERE we could reach. Even then, our parents made sure no rounds were in the chamber and the ammo was kept some place we didn't know about. A senseless death because the father was a damned paranoid alcoholic who believes the government is out to get him. He blames the White House for his son's death; not his negligence. I felt so sorry for the wife.
Gianni is in the same ER as I am. Talk about weird. People look at us and go "Byrne? You related?" Sometimes, I just feel like putting a big sign around my neck that says "Yes, I AM related to Medical Student Gianni Byrne."
Then, Gianni hears this STILL: "Gianni's an ITALIAN name...Byrne's an IRISH name...How do you get both?" Blessed Gianni smiles and simply replies "Because I AM both." It is unusual, he realises, to have an Italian first name with an Irish last name. Sometimes he wishes he had an Irish first name to match the last or an Italian last name to match the first. It's funny how he still teases Momma about it.
I am watching the calendar closely. February is closing in. This is strange...I feel as though I have a Valentine now...but yet, he's far from me.
Well, I do need to get going. Gianni is celebrating. Jessica FINALLY dumped him! Who knew we'd have a celebration for a dumping? Guess we Irish/Italians will use any reason as an excuse to drink!
Take care, mo chroi.
Joey
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Joey...Leave it to you to come up with a question like that! I smiled as I started to read Tariq's latest 'letter' home. How about I do you one better? Do me one better? I thought. OF COURSE you're going to do me one better, Tariq! YOU'RE THE WRITER! But, let's see what you've got! I was not disappointed. Roses are red, Violets are violet (or are they really blue? How come we've just always assumed violet was violet? How do we not know that Violet could possibly be in the BLUE family? But, that's just me...wink wink...uh, now where was I? OH YES!) Roses are red; Violets are violet; I love you with all my heart; Don't ever forget it. I wish you could be here as Dim is reading this over my shoulder, laughing and snorting.
Don't worry. He knows I'll kick his ass he tries blackmail.
Sorry about your bad day at work. That's the tough part about doing what you do and it's what I admire so much about you. You can go through a situation like that and the next day, you're putting your scrubs back on and heading back. That takes a special kind of person.
Glad Jess FINALLY dumped Gianni. Knew all along they weren't really right. Especially when he told us about wanting to be in Emergency Medicine. She's also too high maintenance for Gianni. We'll have to go out and party when I get back.
I would send you some more 'love poetry', but Dim's reading this and I'm about ready to kick him where it will do the most damage!
With my heart,
Dawson
I had to laugh. Even Tariq was glad that Jessica broke up with Gianni. I rather liked his poem too and hoped that one day I could meet some of the guys he served with and thank them for bringing him home safely, if he should.I sat, wondering what to say back. Now I was a little nervous that Dim or Angel or Smoke or, worse yet, his Sergeant would be reading this. I shivered in the cold air of the lunch room as I hit reply.
Tariq, there is nothing new here to report. It's been a quiet evening. Since I had Christmas and New Year's off, I'm working a double shift to make up for it. Yeah...a month later! Simply because Karin wanted to go home to New York for her parents anniversary. So, we switched shifts. She worked doubles Christmas and New Year's so she could go. She's all excited! Said that when you come back, she, Robby, you and I all need to go out for some coffee. She said the REAL coffee, not that stuff you make with C4! She and Robby send their well wishes and love. They've decided to postpone the wedding until you come home. Robby says it wouldn't be the same if you're not here. So, we're looking at a July wedding for them now. Only hope your tour doesn't get extended.
Last night, Marissa had her baby. A healthy 6 pound 5 ounce little boy she named Christopher. She misses Chris a lot. Christopher looks just like his dad. Well, as his dad looked as a newborn. She wrapped him up in that blanket you sent. She never really got to say THANK YOU to you for sending her Chris's stuff. Looks like he wanted a boy himself, with all that was there. It's been hard for her adjusting around here without him. At least, she says, she has a bit of closure knowing how he died. She feels you are all doing the right thing. She has something for you when you get home. I'm sworn to secrecy otherwise I'd tell you.
Anyhow, mo chroi, my break is over. Time to go back out and help doctors perform miracles.
With all my love and heart,
Ciara
Before I headed back out to the floor, I wiped a few tears.
"You okay?" Dr. Biliecki stood at the coffee machine.
"Yeah. It's just having to write to Tariq and letting him know Chris had a son that's named after him."
"Ah, Marissa's husband." Dr. Biliecki sat across from me. "How did he die?"
"IED. A couple weeks ago. It pretty much tore Tariq to his soul. He and Chris were very close."
"Chris will be missed. At least Maris has her son healthy." He stood up. "Take your time. Come out when you feel ready to."