Little Man, warrior family.

Little Man and Dad

(Little Man) and I in 1999.  Immediately following 9/11, typical of modern warrior families, this scene would be repeated several times.  My choice to pursue the warrior life came with the cost of our family.  We are NOT victims, we knew exactly what we were getting involved with.

We’ve since recovered our new shared life together as father and son.  In relief, proving we did the right thing as a family, at 16 yrs old today, Little Man has grown into a remarkable young man.

Heal & numb | Avett Brothers – Head full of doubt

Days and nights of the past, today and tomorrow, yet so fast.  How could they be?

Words fail to express, how Little Man you’ve made me proud.  ”Decide what to be, and go be it.”

Dad

Civil Twilight – Letters From The Sky

“We will hear those planes overhead…we won’t have to be scared…we won’t have to be scared….

“Comin back for me….coming back to me”

Miles Davis Blue in Green

Jojo, you are on my mind

Hold on

“And this land, means less and less to me without you, breathing through it’s trees.”

Mumford & Son’s

To get you meant, only one thing stood between…life.

Failing Little Man, meant we would have failed.

Failure in this life, was, is and will never be an option.

What once a possibility can still be….  Everything else follows simply remains …life.

Prepare to Crossover

Gentleman…Warrior

To Little Man,

Remember this advice

It’s best to win without fighting.

When near, appear far.  When far, appear near.  Sun Tzu

A gentleman, a true gentleman isn’t only one who is well-groomed and dresses well. A true gentleman doesn’t only enjoy Johnny Walker Blue Label or poker with good friends.  A true gentleman leads his household.  A true gentleman loves and respects his woman…

Through hard work and discipline comes children, a house, perhaps a new car or kitchen of her dreams. Communicate, communicate, communicate your way through conflict, all will be well.  Surprise flowers here, a kiss there, everywhere are smiles even tears.

While at home, it’s dinner for two or more. Away with your boys, she gives the space. All day away at the stores, whether it’s purses or shoes, she too gets her space. While at home, your time is shared

While on the town, date as if it’s the first time together. If ever she is physically disrespected, or hit on in unwanted ways even treated less than kind, in no way over react.  Separate her from the conflict..address the individual and move on. If bad enough, send her home, soon enough you will both be together.

Returning to the scene…with patience, simply wait. In silence, observe for other signs and focus.

Perhaps, it was only immaturity…return home.    If any other way, be aware.

If he is far, draw near.  If near, drag behind far. When the moment is right, swiftly seize your opportunity…

When returning home, she is well, safe and near.

  Just like your grandfather, are ways of a gentleman. Through your Dad’s good friends, are ways of a warrior.    A true gentleman loves and respects…while a true warrior defends.

Spitting Teeth

Growing old without Jojo and Little Man is disturbing.  Time doesn’t seem the same and life isn’t the best without them.  The sun does not set or rise.  What was beautiful before is a passing thought today.  What I valued before has little to no meaning.  Without them, the day doesn’t arrive new and the night doesn’t come soon enough.  Watching how fast these past eight years have passed concerns me.  Why do lessons learned have to be so costly?  Are all these challenges meant for a purpose where so many losses and failures happen for a reason?  I ask these questions because from the very start, when forced to make a choice eight years ago, I chose to pursue a good life with Little Man and Jojo, finally new warrior responsibilities. After all that I failed at, I’ve come to believe that the unhealthy thinking I may have been pursuing the next warrior life.  Fact is how I couldn’t have all three.  Little Man, Jojo and that life.

Today, I seriously look at life different, but I don’t.  To read more, please click this link: Spitting Teeth

The Only Exception

I did everything I could to sleep with her.

She looked over the records where her notes collected over time from our weekly meetings.  Dark brunette cut shoulder length, glasses, with tattoos hidden under her blouse.  The artwork spread all over her shoulders, and down her back wrapped around her thin frame.  She was strong-willed with a mind like a steel trap. It was the details she craved.  With severe back problems from childhood, she pushed through her hidden pain.  Every month she took injections to cut the pain, only once a month would she be forced to rely on a cane.  Younger than myself, I could never understand how something so irritating could happen so soon to a woman.

Posted on the walls behind her were diplomas for a Bachelors and Masters degree in social work and medical policy, a Molly Pitcher award for leading military wives at Ft. Bliss, Texas.  It wasn’t only how cute she was; some of it was her intelligence, most of it was how she rebelled against the mainstream.  She was a pistol, and no one fucked with her.  Being the lowest pay grade on the scale, she didn’t have high-profile responsibilities.

To read more, click on this link….The Only Exception.

For her, here is Paramore’s “The only exception.”  Enjoy.

Let me fall

Our family was no different from any other family in America.  Hard work, success, loss here, a failure there.  Bills, vacations, cars, vans and trucks.  Houses, garages, back yards with neighbors, the beach,  Halloween, Christmas, Grand parents and cousins.  A sporting event here. concert there.  9/11 and war.  Report cards, bonuses, overtime and loss of work.  High school graduation and college bills.  Worse, death in a family and divorce, the failure of the family.  Life moves on.  Not so easy.

Adults can manage what life throws at us and will.  Children new to the experiences of extreme losses, deal real-time.  Few things if any overwhelm parents more than the children.  One repeated lesson I’ve learned is how our children are resilient.  What was daunting as a child is forgotten as a teenager, yet it never fails to stay seared deep in the minds of the parents.

My son, waited for me to leave the military and return home.  He was seven years old the day I arrived.  He jumped in my arms shrieking with joy and shared all the plans he had for us.  To read more, please click this link:  Let me fall

Forever Young

Bear with me, there is a point somewhere in this post.   Rarely do I play a musician’s videos twice in a row.  For some reason, Jay Z‘s video “Young forever” has me thinking about growing old and dreams.   Because I’m right in the middle of being young and being an older generation, go with me on this.

What do you expect out of people?  They could be family, friends or people you’ve never met before.  Respect comes to mind, respect for people’s boundaries, privacy, property, feelings, their past and most importantly, their dreams.  No matter if you are young or old, they both demand respect from each other.  Those who have walked their own path’s much longer, demand respect.  Meanwhile, younger generations feel there will be no time for tomorrow may not come; their dreams are just as important.

To read more, go to this link: Forever Young.

Fuck time.  I’m still going for what I wanted years ago.  There is no doubt in my mind I will win it.

Forever young.

Where is my mind?

Pay attention to the video when you listen to the song.  It slowly unfolds.  Thanks to XD Photography Blog for recommending this song.

I’m no longer trying to figure out why things happened.  Moving forward with my son’s hand in mine, in search of a bike and a woman like Jojo.

Green Day – Boulevard of Broken Dream

Not a “woah be me” song. Just a great song by a band that broke punk into mainstream music.  I think you will relate to the lyrics and enjoy this song.  When I say they broke punk into popular music, I’m not referring to punk who stayed punk or punk who started punk. By no means is this considered a punk song.  Green Day just originated as punk.  Regardless, Green Day, just like Metallica went viral if you would and took their genre to the public making it big leaving a great impact on music.

This song reminds me of what it’s like to have friends and family drop like flies while you pursue what you are after. Failing throws curve balls at you, yet, just before the dawn is the darkest hour. When life is so damned frustrating, just when it is about to expire, that is when it starts and the good comes around. Simply put, no matter what you never fucking quit.

Warrior Reality – Family

No different from you, yet very different.  It’s the way of warrior life, the community and the mission that is different.  Everything else is the same as you.

Lauryn Hill- Killing Me Softly

Memory has me sitting at the dinner table late at night doing college homework. She stood in the living room with Little Man in her arms. Rocking him to sleep, Little man’s mother would stand there alone with Little Man listening to this song in repeat until he fell asleep. Every night, same routine, same song. Consistency when our world outside of our home was chaos and unpredictable. His mom did a great job keeping things sane.

This came at a time when our marriage was rocking up and down from bad to good back to turmoil. A fact of life for most families. However his mom and I took it to another level. We didn’t physically hurt each other, however, we beat the hell out of each other verbally.

Meanwhile, at one point it appeared she was simply putting him to sleep. While I concentrated on the work, the more I listened to the song, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to communicate a message to me. As she played this song every night, it was as if she was quietly telling me I was the one …killing her softly.

Home away from home

Not afraid of the past, after ten stays at VA mental hospitals, I’m driving forward.  Today, I’m going to share some experiences.

Combat mental illness or PTSD is a difficult subject, embarrassing, complicated even too difficult to explain.

As you read this blog, not only do you need to understand Jojo and Little Man, you must understand the path taken since 9/11.  A personal journey.

Allow me some time to put thoughts on paper.  This post will be a page, not a long post.  I’ve learned my lesson in posting.  For now, I’ll leave you with another song and brief note.  Keep this in mind.  When I post songs from women, they make me think of Jojo.  I’ll post only songs that I believe feed into this post.  If they only show one image and not a video, the purpose is to listen to the lyrics describe Prepare to Cross over.

Thank you.

Prepare to cross over

Pearls and sons

He waited for his mom and dad patiently being the warrior son he is. The anxiety of …separation of the family and how young he was. A symbol of innocence from a boy who never whined, complained or pleaded for his parents.  Just like every other kid in America, at 5 yrs old our boy knew what his mom and dad and their friends were doing and why.  Eventually, being in the arms of his grand parents (Both sets) we were able to focus on the mission. His mother eventually made it back to America. The day she arrived she dumped her gear in our empty house. Fueling the truck, she departed that day driving 12 hours to recover her son.

During the first Afghanistan trip (Oct 2001-March 2002) I chose not to take pictures of Little Man or my ex-wife. Also, I chose not to bring “moleskin” journals.  Concerned if we were caught, I chose to go into Afghanistan stripped of memories.  For fear, what we carried would enable people to track down our families.

This first trip to Afghanistan was different from any other deployment I had been on.  One difference was the immediate loss of American warriors.  While overseas, Daniel Pearl, a Wall Street Journal reporter, was in Pakistan working on a story/mission about Pakistani extremism and the source of the “Shoe Bomber.” On his own, Mr. Pearl finally started to crack the code of Al Qaeda. With his work, researching alone, he was hot on their trail.

The pen is mightier than the sword. Mr. Pearl’s pen had active impact against Al Qaeda. Soon enough, when they caught on, his mission came to a halt January 23, 2002 after being kidnapped by the very terrorists he hunted. The kidnapping occurred within 150 miles of our site, making the event more sickening. While ground zero in New York City and the Pentagon still burned and smoldered, over international TV, Al Qaeda took Mr. Pearl, dressed him in an orange jump suit. In front of the world, they slit his throat killing him.

Within weeks of his death, Daniel Pearl’s wife Mariane would later leave a legacy of Daniel Pearl through their first-born baby warrior son. Giving the world a gift, a new symbol representing what Daniel Pearl and his mission meant to this world.  For his son, he will always be in good hands.

Daniel Pearl

Image via Wikipedia

Choices of loyalty

A song about my journey. The choice to walk away from his mother, falling in love with Jojo.  The choice of my son.

Not once did I ever compromise loyalty. Without his mom, I’m ok. Without Jojo, I’m less of a man. With my son, I am the man

Highway 20 Ride, posted with vodpod

Enya and Al Qaeda – Christmas 2001 – O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

Yes, I agree.  Enya mixed with the War on Terror, or, Overseas Contingency Operations (OCO) is strange.  Just shut up and go with me on this.  There are reasons to my madness.

Imagine having the honor of being one of the first to go forward and defend this country.  There are so few, you find the little things to be a luxury.  Like toilet paper, cigarettes, coffee, magazines and newspapers and most importantly, letters from home.

Imagine you took over a city, it’s airport and the surrounding area.  Your team secured everything now waiting for replacements.  One night, just before Christmas, you wait for the Marines to arrive.  Over the horizon from the surrounding desert, you see the rise of dust as the oncoming armada of “Devil Dogs” approach the city. Leading them into your area, you release this group of warriors to take over.  It’s here you finally find a break to catch your breath and rearm/refit.

Christmas 2001, weeks following 9/11 at Kandahar, Afghanistan.  On the brink of divorce, my son’s mother and I overcame many infidelities, barely holding on to our marriage.  That year we left our son Little Man (Age 5) behind in America with relatives and separately made our way to Oman and Kandahar, Afghanistan.  As a surprise for both of us, other warriors set up a trip where my ex-wife met me in Kandahar.  We shared Christmas where she brought with her this Enya song.  A bizarre mixture of Irish music with scenery of war in Afghanistan.  I will never forget this song.  It rings over and over seared in my mind.  Memories of war seem frozen in time forever carried in your brain.

I remember Christmas night she and I shared a dinner of Meals Ready to Eat (MRE) of Spaghetti and hot chocolate/coffee.  We found ourselves talking all night long about our Little Man.

That night at the Kandahar, Afghanistan Airport, we cleaned out a bombed out building at one point laying in the middle of the night on top of broken glass from a window.  Despite the crunching and crushing glass, we found ourselves alone for the first time in almost six months.  That night we stayed together making love all night.  After weeks of fighting, that night was our first source of peace in months.

The following morning, as she lay asleep, I remember having head phones on listening to this song.  Staring at my ex, I had hints of falling back in love with her.  It appeared from our view point, the experience of 9/11 and our work brought the two of us back together.  Despite all the conflict, arguments and hatred for each other, we always loved each other.  Watching her sleep, I was alone to contemplate what the future was bringing our family.

What was supposed to be an overnight visit turned out to be six days together.  For just a year afterwards, we enjoyed a return to a strong family.  However, follow on deployments led us to barely hold on until two years later we eventually divorced.  The final straw, our marriage ultimately collapsed under the strain of war.  We screwed ourselves going into battle, yet we worked hard to make it work.  Due to our choices we became a casualty of war.

Ride of my own

In time, my search and hunt for Jojo may come to an end.  What I must do is take care of myself.  Next to Jojo, the bike was that source of peace of mind.  Parked to sit alone, the bike is alive no matter day or night.  Waiting and ridden full throttle cruising and relaxed.  The hum of the engine sets the tone and pattern of the moment.  A continuous rhythm felt throughout your entire body.  Putting one at ease.

It’s time to find my bike again.  Sold eight years ago soon after the last ride with Jojo, I’m now feeling the bike call me.  Brilliant black with shiny silver like chrome threaded throughout the  bike, once in my possession I’m ready.  Until my son grows enough released and moved out on his own, on my motorcycle I take a journey or ride of my own.  It’s here that I’m ready and willing to ride across the entire country.  The bike leading me back to this woman until one day I return to my final home.

Little Man

How do I lead you?  Don’t walk my path.  Look out.  Watch out for this, that or the other.  Making the choices I made, you cannot keep up.  You’ll only get lost.  Look, listen, watch me.  Soon you will ride alone.

Don’t quit on me

Silence does nothing but drive and motivate me.  Searching day and night for a response.  A sign.

Away too long, know me no more, or what I’ve become.  Writing is all I have, with no response.

Only meant to find Little Man and myself.  Wanting to be with you.   To give you a reason to wait for me.

Look what I’ve overcome. After eight years endured much you don’t understand.  The experience changed me, yet I’m the same man you met.  Different yet better.  Stronger today than when we were together. Fail to communicate. My actions and behavior speaks for itself.

Proven to be a good father to my son.  I’ve recovered and created a new life.  My son returns to me.  The boy you care for. What do you want?  Little man is back. Everything except you.

All I’m asking is to start from new.

Give me a chance to show what I’ve become.  A reason to try again, new beginning is all I have.

Torn

How is she doing this to me?  How have I come this far, after eight whole years and still have such a strong desire for her?  Doesn’t she understand what I was up against?  I only chose to walk away with one intent.  To find her again.

I cannot help myself.  Stuck over this woman, I‘m left confused.  She may never had wanted me.  I’m left with memories she wanted me.  On that Harley together, we rode alone for so many miles.  I came to know everything about her left to want her.  It felt mutual.  I felt her want me.  Where have I gone wrong?

Falling apart torn by the choices I had to make.  My son called me waiting for me.  A married man in a failed relationship.

A warrior in time of war, I was about to walk away from my men who would return to battle without me.  They were my son’s and brothers.  To not join them made me worthless.

Then, Jojo had me captivated.  

However, she was too young.  I couldn’t put this gorgeous woman in a position I would disrupt her life.  On course for greatness, had I stayed with Jojo, I would have held her back.  I had to give it time.  Get my life in order again.  Gone too many times had torn apart my life.  Everything I had built with blood, sweat and tears was coming apart.  The consequences of my travels and choices returned to haunt me.  Deep within my mind was an approaching emotional storm that would nearly destroy me.

Pushed and pulled in so many directions, life as I knew it fell apart.  Can’t you see I nearly lost my mind?

A mere kid at that time needing to be a man forced to make choices I didn’t want.  Faced far worse in battle, now with life back home in peace, I was torn.  At that time, I was not a man, instead a mere boy.  I had to leave to find myself.  Only then would I be able to search for Jojo.

Hoping I was giving her a reason to not quit on me.  Her eyes.  Looked at her lips and wanted to move closer to her, I wanted to bring her near me leaning forward to embrace her kissing her for the first time.  Giving her the reason to wait for me.

After eight years of conflict away from Jojo, the time has come.  Must find her again, everyday she tears at me never leaving my mind, memories and thoughts.  Day or night, throughout my journey she remains.  It’s not working.  My efforts fail.  She refuses to respond.  She’s gone.

Who is Little Man?

Little Man is the reason I exist.  He is my only son.  My only child.  He is my family and my purpose.  He is the reason I wake in the morning and what I think about when I lay down to rest.  I’m concerned about little man and root for him in his endeavors.  From the moment he was conceived until today, he has been special and unique.  Thank God he is healthy growing up to become a remarkable young man.  He is maturing fine at a rapid pace.

Little Man stands at about 5 feet 9 inches tall weighing in at 135lbs.   He’s very athletic practicing hockey, golf and motorcross.  He’s played hockey since he was seven reaching a point he now wants to shift focus on motorcross.  He’s broken his wrist twice in hockey.  He’s smart, intelligent with an incredible sense of humor.  He knows how to play team sports and work with a team.  He’s a natural leader of others who doesn’t put up with bullies yet knows how to push those who lack motivation.  He’s experienced as a captain and starting center of his hockey team.  He has played football, lacrosse, basketball, baseball, hockey, golf and motocross.  He has many talents and is skilled in many ways.  He knows and loves to hunt and fish.  He has endurance and runs well.  He has natural strength where he is lean and will be challenged to grow in size.  He must never forget his strengths are his endurance and stamina.

Little man works hard.  He gets frustrated, enlightened, motivated and turned off.  He’s easily set off to pursue something new and challenging.  He loves to practice and is disciplined working very hard at everything he does.  He works hard and plays hard.  Again, he has a funny sense of humor.  He can take things serious one moment and shift to lighten the mood.

Little man loves motorcycles.  He enjoys video games, movies and music.  He likes old TV shows.  He grew up watching A full house.  He can play back verbatim funny lines from movies and commercials.  Commercials are what he really enjoys.  Little man enjoys watching sports especially hunting.  He’s aware of what is current even enjoys history.  He studies the things he enjoys.  He gets it.  He knows how to find something he likes.  Research and study it.  Find the right tools to accomplish it.  Learn about it.  Practice, practice, practice what he loves.  Finally, go for what he loves.  Be passionate about what he loves.  That is what I believe my son has learned and tries to lead his life.  You can see it in how he carries himself and handles situations.  Even what he pursues.

Little Man does very well in academics and school.  He’s been raised in a unique way where he lived a traditional life up to 13 years old.  Afterwards, he’s gone to school over the Internet.  Bypassing so much resistance from his family and friends, his grades and his hockey skills improved.  We’ve reached a level where we will attempt another semester online so he can shift focus on motocross.  The idea is to build his academics around his pursuits and what appears to be his passion.  Little man knows what he wants and he’s going after it.  That is all I ask of him.  I ask that he search for that thing that wakes him in the morning and what carries with him to sleep following him into his dreams.  It’s called passion.  What drives oneself to pursue a life of their choosing.  My son will become a success at whatever he sets his mind to.