Letter to my Son

David,

I know you are too young to read this, as you haven’t even left your mother’s womb, but I hope that one day you shall be able to. As we sit here in the birthing ward, growing impatient by the minute with your stubborn refusal to leave the warmth of your mother, we know that in due time you shall come, that not by our time line, but by yours. I know that soon enough I shall be able to hold you in my arms, kiss you, and just run around the hospital gushing in the joys of fatherhood. I know that you will be perfect in every way, beautiful, intelligent, and just generally perfect, like your father. I know that you were not planned, that we are not ready for you, but yet we have no choice. We have been blessed by God with you, and I plan to make the most of that blessing. I hope that I can teach you the important things in life, faith, hope, love, honor, commitment to family, country, and complete and total belief in your morals. I hope I can teach you to never be too proud to admit you are wrong, to not boast when you are right, and to be humble in all situations, no matter what your life may become. I hope that you can become a man unto yourself, that your beliefs and views reflect you, not myself, not your mother, but that you believe them with your whole heart and mind. That you can find the love of a woman, as I have found the love of your mother, that you two can complete each other, grow old and gray in the comfort of each others' arms. That you have a sense of humor, one that rivals mine, that you be able to laugh in all situations, for the greatest gift you can give someone is not a thing, but the feeling of joy. I know that soon, you will give me that greatest gift of all.

Love,

Dad

Beautiful Oblivion

As I sit in bed, watching my wife sleep, I take a look at my past, my present, and my future. How all of my decisions in life have led me to this point, at 4:26 on Thanksgiving morning, thinking of all the things I am thankful for. I write this with conflicting emotions, as I am glad to be home for the holiday season, as this will be the first Thanksgiving I have been able to spend with my family since 2006, but also, for the past three years, I have known what it has felt like to be in a crowded room with hundreds of people, fellow soldiers, but yet totally feel alone. My heart goes out to those soldiers currently in harm’s way, in Iraq, Afghanistan, and other locals such as Kuwait, Korea, Germany, and anywhere troops may be stationed and unable to make it home for the holidays. However, I digress from the original intent of this post. I see my wife sleeping, glowing in the majestic beauty of the last few days of her pregnancy, knowing that by next Saturday I will be a father, my life forever altered. I think of how our choices have led up to this point, the good ones as well as the bad. I can say with great pride that I regret very few choices that I have made in my life; this unplanned pregnancy is one I know I will never regret. I fear that we are not ready for this child, that we are not financially secure enough, mature enough, old enough, our house not baby proofed enough. But I know that in a week none of that will matter, because my world will forever change with the simple, primal sound of my son’s first cries. I know that my life will change from being self-centered, focused on my well being, to being focused entirely on that child. I realize now I am more in love with my wife than ever. Upon reflection, I realize I may have married Melony for all the wrong reasons, but that we stick together for the right one: love. I realize that most of the choices I have made in the past few years have been about me, about what I want, everyone else’s opinions be damned. I extended in Kuwait not for my wife and my own financial well being, I did it because I wanted to. All of the motives were entirely self-centered. I want to apologize to my wife, to ask her for her forgiveness, but I can’t. I see myself repeating the cycle, volunteering to go to Afghanistan again next year. I pray that she understands my choices, can forgive me for them. I love her with all my heart and try to do right by her as much as I am capable of. I am not sure what my intent of this post was, nor am I entirely sure that I achieved what I wanted. Life is forever changing and will be drastically altered for myself in a week. I know that I will be back on here then, gushing over my newborn son. Until then, I wish you all the best. Happy Thanksgiving.

My Greatest Fear

My greatest fear is not going home. It is going home and finding out that I like it more here than I do at home. I hope that this fear is never realized, for my wife as well as myself, for my sanity. The past two years has been one long lesson in which I have learned more about myself than I ever thought possible. The past few days I have spent in recollection of the choices that I have made that have brought me to this point. The question that has been at the forefront of my mind is why am I still here? I can't seem to find an answer that I can accept. I tried to say that it was for the money, the college, patriotism, to give my wife a life that she could not have otherwise. None of these answers can quell that nagging thought. I may never be able to give myself an answer that I find truly acceptable. I find myself thinking that I may have done this for all the wrong reasons. If all those reasons were wrong, then what are the right reasons? Are there any? My mind constantly nags me, telling me I have wasted the past two years of my life, but I know I have not. The past week has been the longest of my life, as I know the next two will be even longer. I am anxious to go home, but at the same time am reluctant, as I wonder how my friends, my family, will look at me. If I will ever be able to sit at the table on Thanksgiving and not feel like an outcast, a stranger in my own home. Will they ever be able to comprehend the things that I have been through, my experiences? My memories? The sound of the car bomb going off, seeing the mushroom cloud, wondering if that is all or if they are going to try to hit the camp again? The sound of the first mortar hitting the ground in the distance, wondering if the next one that hits is going to result in a an officer knocking on my wife's door, a flag being handed to her with an officer quietly whispering these words into her ear: "Mrs. Hatfield, this flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation." I wonder if it would have been worth it, laying my life down in a foreign country that is most likely going to return to the ninth level of hell once we leave it. I wonder if it was worth the lives of those we have lost, SPC Walters, SPC Casey, and many others. Maybe in thirty or forty years I will be able to sit down with my grandchildren as they ask me about Iraq and Afghanistan. Hopefully I will be able to tell them how proud I was to be a part of the change, how I helped them improve their countries, how I did my part. I truly hope that is how this turns out, but I have my doubts. I hope that I can find an answer to my nagging question, but I fear I never will.

Finding Myself

Two years ago today I flew into Kywait. The past two years have been full of joy and heartache, lost friends, and learning. I originally joined the army as a way to find myself, to find what I am made of, to discover my true self. Four years later, I'm not sure if I am any closer to that goal than I was the day I signed my contract. I have discovered many things I am capapble of doing, from surviving 150 degree Baghdad summers to changing a transmission in a military truck. I have discovered that I can survive a week without a shower. I have learned that I can do anything I set my mind to.

But have I found myself? Have I found who I truly am? Have I found out what I want to do in my life? As most of you know, I will be heading home in a month. I am, for lack of better words, scared as to how I will cope with being home. After two years of being told what to do every day, of having every last minute of my day planned for me, how am I going to adjust to a life of disorganization, waking up whenever I want, doing whatever I want, getting in my truck and just driving? I do not have these freedoms where I am. I wonder if I will be able to accept them, to not have to drive down the road wondering if someone is going to try and kill me. Only time shall tell if I will be able to survive my demons. I do not have many of them, but I have enough of them...