What a trip

Last year, as I was tucked into my hospital bed staring into the glistening eyes of my minutes-old baby, I found myself in my own happy little world.  365 days later, I found myself in a different kind of daze, standing in the gently falling snow, before yet another flag-draped coffin, listening to the all-too-familiar 21 gun salute and then the distant echo of taps.  On the day that I was to celebrate my baby's birth, SSG Dave Senft's mother was honoring her baby's death. 

While we have selfish tendencies with the best of them, Nick and I both try our best to lead a life of service; and we want the same for our family.  I have come to learn that serving others is not always comfortable or convenient, but that doesn't diminish the importance of following through.    

Making the decision to travel to Washington D.C. for SSG Dave Senft's funeral at Arlington National Cemetery on Emmy's birthday was easy to make yet not without plenty of discomfort.   

I have learned through experience that grieving families find a great deal of comfort in meeting all of the people whose lives were touched by their loved one.  Dave's family was no different.  Unfortunately, given the fact that most of his friends are still serving in Afghanistan, or were unable to travel to Arlington so close to the holidays, there were very few, if any, non-family members in attendance.  Knowing that was confirmation that Washington D.C. was where I needed to be on December 16th.

The day before, Emmy and I kept busy with her 12 month doctor's appointment, the 5 hour drive to Indy, joining the Sacksteders in dropping off dinner for the local fire department before I was due to fly to Washington that night.  I finally laid my head down on the hotel pillow just a few minutes shy of midnight.  After a seemingly short night of sleep, I was up to get ready to join the military escort and unit representative in the lobby so that we could go to the funeral home together.  There had been a visitation held the night before, but there would be no formal funeral service for Dave.  Matt (my Rear-Detachment Commander and the unit representative) and I followed the hearse through D.C. traffic and the gates of Arlington National Cemetery.

With a deep breath, we got out of the car, headed through the biting cold to the room where the Senft family was waiting.  I was very fortunate to meet with Dave's mother, wife, sisters, grandparents and aunt in the short period of time before we were due to process to the grave site.  They all were deeply appreciative of my support and Nick's visit over Thanksgiving.  The Casualty Assistance Officer told me that it was after Nick's visit that the family was able to start moving forward with making plans.  Truly a sign that Nick had done the right thing.

As we emerged from the building, we were greeted by falling snow.  It was beautiful.  Because of the way in which Dave had died (it wasn't in combat), the ceremony was a very simple one and lasted not much more than 15 minutes.  But, even in it's short duration, I have a very vivid image burned into my memory.

Once we returned to the car, I powered on my phone to realize that I had two missed phone calls from United Airlines.  My sinking feeling of impending doom was confirmed shortly thereafter when I learned that my flight a few hours later (to get home in time to see my sleeping birthday girl) was canceled due to weather and that I was rescheduled to leave the next morning.  It didn't take long for the tears to flow.  My two male soldier car mates weren't really sure what to do for me other than pat me on the back and promise me a nice dinner. 

With puffy eyes, I re-checked into my hotel room.  After updating Kris (who was busy making sure that Emmy had the best birthday ever) and decompressing with my Nick (who happened to call at the perfect time), I decided to go exploring.  I took the hotel shuttle bus to the metro station, hoping that it could be easily navigated (I am severely directionally challenged.)  Fortunately, my friend on the shuttle did not lead me astray, it was surprisingly not hard to find my way (probably because I didn't have to switch "lines" at all.)

I was on a mission to see the White House christmas tree.  I resurfaced from the underground Federal Triangle metro station, to a flurry of snow and a decent accumulation of the white stuff.  Very few others shared my bright idea, which left me with scarcely populated sidewalks.  After a few wrong turns and a short shopping excursion in the Old Post Office building, I spotted the hugest decorated evergreen at 1600 Pennsylvania.  Obama clearly knows how to do Christmas right! (I just realized that's the first compliment I've ever given him!)

I purchased an old-school disposable camera to document the occasion and the pictures will follow as soon as I use up the remaining 23 on the camera so that I can get them all developed.  No telling how long that will take, I can't remember the last time I "developed" pictures.  But I digress.

After some lunch, I hopped back on the metro to the Pentagon City stop where I was promised some good christmas shopping.  I got more christmas shopping done in 45 minutes at the Fashion Centre Mall than I did in the last three weeks in Clarksville.  Today was shaping up to be a highly productive day, even though I would have traded it a hundred times over to spend it with my girl.

Matt came through with his promise for a nice dinner.  I joined he and his cousin, Hallie, for steaks and wine at a delicious little place somewhere in D.C..  I can count the number of sit-down restaurant meals I have had in the last year on just one hand, so this was a special treat.  So was the toast they made to Emmy.  Which only made me start tearing up again.

I sat straight up in bed at 3am the next morning, worrying about what time I needed to arrange for a cab to the airport.  So I called the front desk.  They had it taken care of, yet I still had a concerned feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Rightfully so.  A cab finally showed up 40 minutes before my flight was due to depart.  Reluctantly, I called the airline to get on the next flight, feeling very disappointed to learn that it arrived to Indy several hours later that I'd planned (missing the special play group Kris had arranged as a celebration for Emmy's big day.)  When our cab pulled up to the airport at exactly 30 minutes prior to take-off, I decided to give it a go and attempt to get back on my 6am flight.  The gentleman at the ticketing counter said it would be fine, and quickly handed me my tickets as I took off sprinting towards security.  As I was about to hand over my ticket to the TSA guy, I noticed that the ticketing agent had printed off the later flight itinerary.  To make myself feel better, I was convinced that the gate agent could help me out, so I continued to forge ahead.  That was until they had to run my bags twice and manually check my suitcase because I apparently had too many travel sized toiletry containers (WHAT?!?!)  Crying and jumping up and down (I don't really know why my subconscious thought that would help), I begged the TSA bag checker guy to go quickly as I kept listening to the final boarding call announcements for the flight that I hoped to be on.

When he finally zipped my bag, I grabbed it and took off running to the gate.  Only to be met by a nasty gate agent who didn't want to hear my story and shut the door in my face. (Not really, but close.)  Feeling very defeated, I found Matt (who split a cab with me despite his much later flight time) and cried to him about my bad luck as he ate his breakfast.  Even though the Rear Detachment Commander's job is the pits, I don't feel too sorry for him because he's not deployed.  There again, I digress.

Some time later (I had 4 hours until I needed to board my flight), I came upon a dear old friend from Nick's West Point days...Wayne and his wife Keira!! We had lost touch over the last seven years, and they are now stationed in the D.C. area at Fort Myer!  What are the chances that we would be at the same gate, at the same terminal, at the same airport on the same day?!?  Our visit helped me to have a much more positive attitude about my travel drama.

At long last, I was finally reunited with my birthday girl.  Kris arranged for us to open presents and sing a belated happy birthday with cupcakes after dinner.  It was all that I could have hoped for it to be.  In the wee hours of the next morning, my wiggly one year old gave me a present of her own.  After waking up startled, she cuddled up and slept with me for almost two hours.  Emmy must've known that I needed to hold her, it was Heaven on earth.