There are Different Ways a Soldier can Come Home

Shane's brothers-in-arms are coming home soon. I'm happy that they're coming home safely. On Facebook, I see a lot of updates from the men themselves, their wives, and family. All of these updates are happy, as they should be. Their loved ones are coming home.

But.

My brother came home in a box.

"My Heart's Been Broke For A While; Your's Been The One Keepin' Me Alive"

Shane-o, if you were alive I would tell you about this song or send it to you. I don't know if you would like it or not, but I have a feeling that you would. So I'm leaving it here for you, because I don't have anywhere else to leave it.

RIP Nate Dogg

Nate Dogg died today. Shane really liked him a lot. Maybe, if there's a heaven or some other magic-fun-place, Nate Dogg is putting on a concert and Shane is in the audience.

Whale Songs

We were driving on the expressway somewhere. Maybe to a relative's house or out to dinner. We were in Michigan in the summertime, so obviously there was roadwork being done. This was the kind of roadwork that involved lane shifts and the possibility of driving over the groove patches on the shoulder that are designed to keep drivers from drifting. We happened to be in one of the temporary lanes that involved driving over those grooves. I became increasingly agitated. 

"AHHHK! That noise is really awful and driving me insane," I whined. 

"Calm down, Bethie," Shane said to me, in the voice he saved for instances in which he was being particularly compassionate. "It's just a noise."

"It hurts my ears and Ijustwantittostop."

I had let the noise seep into my brain. I felt my anxiety raise with each groove patch the car went over. 

"I know," Shane said, "But if you just think of it as being something else, then it won't bother you so much."

"NOTHING else sounds like that. It's terrible and miserable."

"I always think of it as whale songs. And if you think about it being whales talking to one another, it's really not so bad."

I was irate, but suddenly calmer. He was right and had completely beaten any argument that I might have had. So, in a rare instance, I shut my mouth. And I listened to the whale songs.

I don't remember exactly when that conversation took place. I think it was before Shane was even openly talking about joining the Army. But it's something that I've always kept with me. The groove patches still grate on my nerves, but whenever I hear them for an extended period of time, I think of Shane and his perspective. It was an odd thing for him to think, in my opinion, because I never really viewed Shane as being an optimist until that time. He, much like myself, was his own worst enemy, and was harder on himself than anyone else in the world. Up until that conversation in the car, I would have coined him a pessimist. But that day, my perspective of my brother completely changed. I had always considered Shane to be a very unique person, but his world view was one that I have truly never encountered before and one that I believe I would have finding now. I suppose that is part of what makes him being gone so difficult -- knowing that I won't ever find anyone who compares groove patches to whale songs.

It's still very much winter. Even though it rained this morning, this evening it's snowing again. On my drive home, I thought about the groove patches and about spring and summer and the almost certainty of roadwork. And I look forward to being stuck in a makeshift lane, driving over groove patches. Listening to whale songs. Feeling like I'm in the car with my brother again.

Surrounded by Love

Sometimes, when you're in a really low place, it helps to pull your head up, look around, and realize that you are surrounded by love. You can't always see the love. It's easy to shut it out or ignore it. But it's there. 

I find that I shut this love out a lot, especially when I'm in those really low places. I've closed up my heart and don't let anyone or anything in, because love can cause a lot of pain. Today, I forced myself to open my heart up just a little bit. Because I was feeling rather raw and broken. Because yesterday was a shit day. Because sometimes you have to reach those really low places in order to start building yourself back up again. Because keeping my heart closed all the time is actually a tremendous amount of work when there are so many people in this world who have love for me. 

I read what I've written and think, that doesn't sound like you. That sounds like it was written by someone you would probably make fun of for being a sap. But it's how I feel today. And it's how I wish I felt most days. I didn't end up finding the strength in my heart where Shane told me it would be. I found it in other people's hearts. And it was more than enough to keep me going until tomorrow.

"When your strength fails, take some of mine. It will be in your heart when you need it." -Shane Reifert

"When your strength fails, take some of mine. It will be in your heart when you need it." 

Shane wrote this to me in a letter when he was still going through Basic. I had it inscribed on a set of dog tags that I wear when I'm having a particularly rough day or need a bit of luck. It's one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me, and I'm glad it came from my brother. Most of the time, it works. Whenever I think I'm having a rough day, or someone isn't being very nice to me, or I have a list of things I need to do longer than I can count, I repeat Shane's words to myself and I think about him and what he would say to me. I think about all of the rough days that he had in Basic and in Afghanistan. I think about how much of a strong person he was for doing what he did with his life.

Then I usually tell myself to stop feeling so sorry for myself and to accomplish whatever I need to accomplish, and things are fine. Today is one of those days where I have to keep saying that over and over to myself and I can't seem to find any strength left. 

I've been having a pity party for one all day and no matter how many times I look for Shane's strength in my heart, I can't seem to find any. People tell me how strong I am. But I feel weak all the time -- like I've been living off of fake strength for the past four months and maybe reality is finally starting to catch up. 

4 Months

From Post Secret:

 
Miss you, buddy. Every single day.

Member of the 1-327 Killed in Action

Please keep the family and friends of Specialist Brian Tabada, of the 1st Battalion, 327th Infantry Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 101st Airborne Division, in your thoughts. 

According to the Department of Defense, Specialist Tabada, of Las Vegas, Nevada, was killed in action on February 27, 2011, while fighting in the Kunar Province, Afghanistan. He died as a result of wounds suffered when insurgents attacked his unit using small arms fire and a rocket propelled grenade. 

He was only 21.
 

Redacted

Reading a death report from the Army is like playing the worst game of Mad Libs you can imagine.

There are no nouns. No names of characters. No places. No times. Just cold details and multiple versions of the same exact thing, signed with signatures that have all been redacted, labeled like exhibits for a trial in which no one will ever be charged. So much the same exact thing, that there is no way it's what the writers of those different versions actually remember. I've read enough police and eyewitness reports to know that it's impossible for 30 people to remember something taking place in the same exact way. The human brain just doesn't work that way.

I am in no way suggesting that this indicates any kind of fraud or deception. The report has to read this way because most people would probably infer that different stories indicates some kind of fraud of deception. And a part of me does understand why I was forced to play a terrible game of Mad Libs. But the rest of me thinks that I've gone through enough pain as part of the aftermath of Shane's death that I should just get to read the real report, just one time, so that my brain doesn't have to play mental gymnastics to make sense of document with redaction after redaction.

50,000 Hits

Thank you to everyone who reads this blog. When we started it, I never imagined that we would get to 50,000 hits. Of course, I would much rather have Shane back than know people have been reading this. But since getting him back doesn't seem to be an option, the blog has been a comfort and has hopefully allowed people to get to know Shane and my family. And most importantly, the blog has allowed many of you to donate and help soldiers. So thank you for reading and for your continued support.