13 Years

Thursday, October 12th marked 13 years of us remembering my husband’s Alive Day.
Our family celebrates this day to recognize how close we came to having lost my husband and our children’s father. So many things can be said about this day, but one thing is certain, God knew Donny had more left to do on this earth.
I remember that day vividly, so much so, sometimes I wish I could forget. I don’t like to talk about the day he was injured. It’s been long enough for me where I’ve could move past this traumatic experience, but anytime I recount those memories the emotions come flooding back.
I was working full time and taking care of our 1-year old daughter when my husband was deployed. It was tough being a single parent but even more difficult having my husband overseas and in the line of fire day in and day out. You always wonder the what if’s. What if my husband doesn’t come home? What do you tell your 1 year old; or how do you tell a one year old their father isn’t ever coming home again? It’s not a healthy state of mind to be in, but things most families think about during a deployment.
My husband and his company were stationed near Al Mahmoudiya, a small farm and industrial area just south of Baghdad. Communication back then was a bit different then it is now, long lines for the computer and even longer ones for the phones. Email is how we communicated best. I remember getting to work the morning of the 12th and seeing an email from my husband. He wrote the normal, I miss you and wish I was there with you and our beautiful daughter and always ending with, I’ll be home before you know it. But at the end of the email this time, it was different. He wrote, he wasn’t sure when he would be able to write me again due to an upcoming patrol schedule, my heart sank. He always told me not to worry and that everything will be fine but this time it felt different. I responded right away, even knowing there is a 7-hour difference and that he probably wouldn’t get it right away, but I wanted it sent more for my piece of mind. I wrote, we love you and are praying for a safe return. I sent it and found myself re-reading his email over and over until I forced myself to close it. But something just felt off and uneasy about this email.
I was anxious all day and had a hard time concentrating on work. I couldn’t wait for my day to be over. I just wanted to be home with our daughter and be distracted by our little angel. Our night was spent watching the movies Donny made for us before he left, reading books, and finally going to bed. I refused to watch the news that night, I didn’t want to see any stories about the war and the latest casualties our military suffered. I just wanted this day to be over and start new.
Around Midnight the phone rang. I woke immediately but felt frozen. I knew if someone was calling me at this hour something was wrong. I answered and it was my husband on the other line, I relaxed a bit knowing I was talking to him. I remember him saying “Sarah can you hear me”, I immediately responded, “is everything ok”? He said, “I’m fine, please don’t worry.” I remember asking him over and over what is going on. He sounded muffled almost as if he had a bad connection, but later I would find out that it was his jaw that was broken and he couldn’t get what he was trying to say correctly. I finally asked him to please stop saying everything is ok and to tell me what was going on. Honestly at the time I thought he was going to tell me some of his marines were injured because he sounded fine, but he didn’t. He said, “I got shot but I’m ok”. I asked him where, where were you shot? And he responded in the face. I screamed. I screamed so loud I woke my daughter in the other room. I started crying hysterically, he kept telling me he’ll be fine and that he would see me sooner than expected. He wasn’t on the phone long when the surgeon said, we need to go. He told me he loved me and that I would hear from someone soon. Before I could even say I love you, the surgeon took the satellite phone and told me the news. He said ma’am your husband’s been shot in the face, we don’t know where the bullet is and we need to find out. I wanted your husband to call before taking him in. When he’s out of surgery we will make sure to report to his base and someone will be in touch with you. The phone went silent and they were gone.
To be honest what happened afterwards is a bit of a blur. I remember calling my sister right away trying to get out what just happened but I was crying too hard to form real sentences. I remember saying Donny’s been injured. She screamed and started crying, she finally gained her composure and said she was coming over. My daughter was still crying in her bed but I couldn’t move, I just sat in my room on the side of the bed in disbelief, hysterically crying to trying to figure out what next. I didn’t know what to do, who to contact that late at night; I was helpless. I was up all night hoping to hear from someone and going in and out of sleep. It was the longest 24 hours I’ve ever experienced.
Over the next several days, family would stop by showing their support and comforting me while awaiting word. Three days passed with no word on my husband’s status.  I didn’t know if my husband made it out of surgery or if he was recovering in the hospital. My daughter and I would spend some of the time up at the base awaiting word but nothing came. We would go home, wake up and go back in hopes something had changed. Finally, on the fourth day the phone rang, it was Donny. He was in now in Germany recovering, that is when I got the full story.
On the night of October 12, 2004, they were conducting security patrols in an area outside of our base they called “the ghetto”. Most of the time they were shot at while patrolling and even many IED’s and mortar attacks came from that area. After patrolling for a few hours, his team got a call that their base had received mortar fire and apparently, a few locals wanted them to know that when they got mortared, the people launching the mortars were loading the tubes into their cars and driving away. They received word to set up a vehicle check point which started with no issues during the first few stops. Then they stopped a car and the driver was mad, yelling and irritated that he was stopped. He drove away from their checkpoint backwards but while doing that he attempted to run over some of their Marines. They engaged him and before he and his vehicle stopped he had managed to shoot in my husband’s direction and one of those bullets hit him in the face. It fractured his jaw, damaged his sinuses and the bullet was still up inside his head. After surgery in Baghdad and stabilization in Balad he was sent to Landstuhl Germany for another several weeks. There was a lot of movement once he was out of surgery hence the reason of no communication.
Donny would stay in Germany for 2 weeks before being flown back to Bethesda Naval Medical Center. That’s where I met up with my husband and stayed with him over the next week. We flew home together to greet our daughter and after 2 weeks he would then fly to California and stay for the next year at Camp Pendleton while receiving treatment at Balboa Hospital. A seizure disorder, nerve damage, trouble swallowing, a migraine condition and a moderate traumatic brain injury were the result from his injury.
These past 13 years have not been easy. We’ve had our ups and downs but we are a family unit and always will be. We have a long road ahead but together we can face anything.