Friday, May 12
According to the clock, it's 3:15 in the morning, daylight saving time, my body feels like it is still in another time zone. Yes, I am in this time zone. I am back on American soil!
Wednesday morning Steve told me to be on standby, that we were leaving on the next available plane. After a very long flight we landed in Dover. A jeep drove us to the other side of the base to catch a helicopter to Langley. When we stepped off the plane the night was so beautiful. The sky was clear and full of stars. I'm grateful to be home, almost home.
Several career military were traveling with us. Everywhere I've been for the past 10 weeks, I've been surrounded by military, getting a closer look at the price they pay for the life we enjoy.
Take a letter for instance. I can write a letter, to whomever I choose, say whatever I want, mail it, and only the intended recipient is allowed to open that letter. We even have laws to protect the confidentiality and privacy of that letter should it be lost. The people that I've been serving beside, they pay a big price; their families pay a big price, for things we too often take for granted like the right to send a letter.
When we were on the helicopter, I thought about the rescue of Lieutenant Amidon –the courage it took to attempt that rescue, the courage it took for her to survive. I thought about being with you, sitting on the steps, sharing a sandwich, waiting and hoping for word of her rescue. You draped your coat around my shoulders. You were already my hero. Yes, my heart skipped a beat or two that night.
Funny, as soon as we got back in the States, I wanted so badly to slip away, and find a phone to call you. But I think about the men and women who do the right thing – the hard thing – the sacrificial thing, not just for 10 weeks, but some for an entire career. Surely, I can follow the rules for just a few more days.
Until I can be beside you again,
Shane