Spreading Peace in the Middle East...

iTunes Selection: "Wonderwall" -Oasis.

Before my father died he started his 12 steps over again from AA. He wanted to make amends for being an alcoholic while we were growing up. I thought I had heard him tell me this before so I listened politely as I could and let him go on. He was letting go, letting go of his guilt as if confessing to me.

A couple of years later I was standing in a Dining Facility in Baghdad about to ask the Indian server for an ice cream cone from a 31 flavors freezer and it hit me:

I needed to make amends and move on.

“Praleans Cream sir?”

I hated Praleans and Cream ice cream. It used to be my ex-wives favorite. I remember one night I drove around town going to 31 flavors looking for Praleans and Cream for her. I ended up buying the generic brand at the grocery store just so I could go home and call it a night. That was the reason for that fight.

‘lazy sob, couldn’t even get me the right ice cream, your just like your father!’

I don’t really remember the rest of the argument, but I think i spent the night in the spare bedroom. God I’m glad that house had a spare bedroom.

So there I was, trying to decide between Praleans and Cream and something else and I realized how angry I still was about some stupid ice cream flavor.

Just a little while earlier I had spent some time looking back at my emails between the two of us after we had split up. It was the normal stuff divorcing people say to each other I guess. Except I started to notice a trend about my emails. I had been angry, openly, didn’t matter what she wrote to me I was angry. She tried to say something nice and I had jumped all over her about something worthless.

‘Vanilla, strawberry, or chocolate sir?’

I needed to do something different or it was going to eat me up like it had my father. The last time I saw him he was on a bed in the hospital wasting away. Barely the person I knew growing up he was hooked up to about every kinda machine and device to keep him alive. He came in and out of clarity. At one point he looked at me and for a second realized who i was, i think. I told him how my wife had made it home safe from Iraq, and then he was gone again. God, what had happened to the man I knew.

‘sir? Flavor?’

I was at work when my brother called to tell me that dad had passed. The entire family was there and they had watched him as he had slowly relaxed, looked up at the family and slipped away. My brother was broken up as he called me and told me about it. I tried to say something meaningful, but nothing would help. At which point I hung up with him and focused on getting home . I then picked up my cell phone and called my wife. ‘my dad just died.’
‘thats sad,’ and in the same breath, ‘you can pick up the divorce papers at the lawyers office if you want?’ I was wordless, what do I say to that? ‘ah, yeah, i have to deal with this first.’ and I hung up.

‘sir? Flavor, sir?’

I was still angry with her for dropping that bomb on me. I was angry for not listening to my father closer when he had called in the middle of the night and rambled on about something and the answering machine listened as i feel back asleep. I was angry for not having someone to cry with when he died.

Not long after he died I had a dream about my father. I walked up to his bed in the hospital, my grandmother was sitting there beside him, and he magically got up out of bed like the resurrection of christ. As strong and healthy as when I was just a little kid so small in his arms he spoke to me, ‘I’m at peace now.’

I wrote my ex wife and said i was sorry, and i wanted to make peace with her. I needed to make amends.

I needed to let go of the anger and move on. It was my very own 12th step before I took the biggest step of all and married the most wonderful woman in the world, my lil red head...

‘I’ll have the vanilla.’

Jogging at night in Iraq...

Finally a day off, finally some time to do something different.

iTunes Selection: "Quien Eres Tu(feat. Trey Songz)" -Mariajose

It had finally cooled down, the dust was still kicking from the day’s dust storm but the heat had finally died down and the night was calm. I jogged out the south gate and turn left. At first I started looking for cars that maybe I could thumb a ride with. All I saw was a tractor trailer headed out. I stayed off the main road and on the dirt side of the road.

I was using my iPod to light the road, and to light myself for the occasional pick up truck driving by at warp speed. I was listening to “Quien Eres Tu,” a spanish song I’d downloaded from itunes. The rhythmic beat kept my legs going. Oddly enough the song seemed to fit the scenery. I stepped it up as I crossed an intersection and followed the side road through a refueling site. The road was now pavement and my feet made more noise than or the dirt. The music was putting me in a good mood, as i passed I waved at the hindi re-fuelers. A couple glanced at me sideways, the others just seemed to be waiting to close up and go home for the night.

I crossed the main road and picked up my pace as I went through the deserted traffic circle. The beat kept playing in my head phones and my feet kept moving. I waved at a couple of Iraqi guards with my water bottle. They waved back, a little unsure who had just jogged past them. I turned right, down the last leg of my trip.

This was a dark narrow road with 20 foot walls on either side. There was no lights on this road, but the full moon helped illuminate the way. As my eyes adjusted to the light I could start making out the creatures of the night, bats. Swooping down they were snacking on the bugs in the air. The muted full moon broke through the dust in the air but the road seemed darker and darker. I took one final gulp of warm water out of my water bottle and washed my mouth out of dirt that I had started to taste.

This jog reminded me of running with my dad as a kid. I picked up spitting from him as I ran. I cleared my throat one more time and tossed the bottle as hard as i could into the trees along the side of the road and stretched out my stride. I was going to make the best of this last leg and I wanted to lighten my load. I turned up the music on my ipod and lengthened my stride. I was headed in, I didn’t like being on this road by myself. It was too dark.

As i pulled up to the gate guards they had a look of surprise, ‘where’d you come from?’ Their first question was if I was an interpreter? No, I worked in an office.

I jogged here from the gym on Stryker. Only about 2 miles, but it was dark. Jogging the final turn around the compound I walked into the office for a big bottle of cold water.