Chapter 2 #2
I am the flag of the United States of America. My name is Old Glory. I fly atop the world’s tallest buildings. I stand watch in America’s halls of justice. I fly majestically over great institutions of learning. I stand guard with the greatest military power in the world. Look up and see me!
I stand for peace, honor, truth, and justice. I stand for freedom. I am confident—I am resolved—I am proud…
There were several flags folded into a triangle with three sharp corners within this part of the ceremony that were going to be passed from one officer to another, standing in line one behind the other. The path of the flags was almost mesmerizing as I watched through tear-filled eyes.
The first flag was passed during the recitation.
As the sailor behind the first slowly saluted, the flag rose slowly in conjunction with his hand.
As he lowered his hand, the flag also lowered, then was turned with the corner facing outward, then presented to him.
He accepted the flag with both white-gloved hands, turned, and the ritual repeated.
The flag was moved down the line. I sat up straighter in my seat, my head slightly tilted as the commanding officer’s voice became more reverent as he recited the final few lines.
…I have been a silent witness to all of America’s finest hours and I now long to see us united as never before, but my finest hour comes when I am torn in strips to be used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the field of battle.
When I fly at half-mast to honor my soldiers, my sailors, my airmen, my marines, firemen and policemen and medical workers, and when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving mother at the graveside of her fallen son.
As the words filtered throughout the room, they resonated with me.
I realized I was a silent witness to my own horrors of life.
I’d been almost dreading this moment because I didn’t know who or what I was without the Navy, but this was my opportunity to push forward with my life.
Become a new me. Make the life I wanted to live for myself.
With newfound resolution, my tears dried, and the sense of heaviness I’d been feeling for the past few days released from my shoulders. The relief of things getting better was all I needed.
I sat back in my seat as the flag was passed to the final person and lay on a table with the rest of the flags that passed down the line—the flags I would present to my family.
I took a deep breath, rose from my seat, marched to the table, and picked up a flag.
I held it in my hands, turned and moved toward my parents’ table, presented the flag to my father, and saluted him.
I repeated the presentation twice more with my grandparents and then finally Retired Petty Officer Jessica Raymond. Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she accepted the flag and saluted me back. I wouldn’t be who I was today without her.
Dinner was served, and I took that opportunity to get my speech out of the way.
“I don’t know why she wanted to do this right now,” Tanner Lane, the emcee, announced into the mic as the surrounding people continued to eat. “But it’s her day, so she’s the boss. Tisha, the mic is yours.” He smiled.
I rose from my seat to applause and took my place behind the podium.
“Thank you, Tanner,” I called over my shoulder, rolling my eyes.
“You all know I’m not for the spotlight.
Never have been, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t say something to everyone right now.
” I willed away the tears, glancing down at my speech.
“I want to thank everyone for being here today. When I was eighteen, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I was suspended from school for the rest of the year, but there was one person who called me and my parents every week to check on me. And I thought, now what person would check on a hardheaded, think-they-know-it-all, smart-mouth kid?”
“And she’s still the same,” Charlie Baker yelled, and the room erupted in laughter.
I couldn’t hold the laughter back, because he was right. I’d probably be smart-mouthed until I died.
“And don’t you forget,” I responded. “Yes, I was all those things, but Petty Officer Jessica Raymond never quit. She had my parents, as subtle as parents can be, talking about and asking me questions about the Navy. They finally broke me, and I went to the recruitment office. Now, remember”—I turned the page of my speech—“I’m still this badass kid.
Or so I thought. So, I went in, and because can’t nobody tell me anything, Jessica calls me on my bullshit, tells me I’m not Navy material.
That she was wrong about me.” I paused and shook my head, remembering that day.
“At that moment, more than anything, I wanted to prove her wrong. I looked her dead in the eye and told her to give me the papers. And she looked me dead in my eye and gave me a smirk because she knew she played me. I had no idea I was getting played. And now, twelve years later, here I am.” I spread my arms out to showcase myself.
“If not for that day, there’s no telling where I would be.
I certainly don’t believe I’d be here. I owe you everything.
” I turned to my parents. My mom’s eyes glistened with tears.
“To my parents. Thank you for not giving up. Thank you for sticking behind and standing up to a hardheaded kid that could’ve easily put you into an early grave.
I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.
Without your unwavering love and support, I could’ve never gotten through those early years, and certainly not these past six months. I love you.”
My mom threw kisses up at me, and I caught every one of them and returned my father’s proud smile.
“And last, I’d like to thank my unit. My team.
” A tear trekked down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away.
“Y’all will never know how much you mean to me and what I carry in my heart for you.
You guys have been the big brothers I never had.
You’ve been my fierce protectors and have had my back on so many things, so many times, and I thank you for all of it.
” By the time I got to this part of my speech, I could barely hold it together.
I wasn’t just leaving behind some guys I worked with.
They were my family. “I can’t express enough how much I will miss you.
How much I will cherish all the times we’ve spent together.
” My hand closed over my heart. “I love you guys.” I wiped the tears that refused to stop falling.
“Thank you for the memories. Thank you.”
The day was quickly coming to an end. One I felt with anticipation.
It was time for my watch ceremony. Again, beautiful in its own right.
Jessica grabbed my hand from the seat beside me and squeezed.
She gave me a sweet smile, then rose from her seat.
Charlie was already standing at the bell in the center of the aisle where I would take my last walk. I stood at attention while she began.
“Since 2009, this woman stood watch.”
Charlie rang the bell.
“While some of us were in our bunks at night, this warrior, she stood the watch.”
He rang the bell again.
“While some of you were in school, learning your trade, this shipmate stood the watch.”
The bell tolled.
“Yes…even before some of you were born into this world, she stood the watch.”
The bell sounded, and Jessica pointed in my direction as she walked back and forth, reciting the words.
“…Many times, she would cast an eye ashore and see her family standing there. Needing her guidance. Needing that hand to hold through those hard times. But still, Tisha stood watch. She stood the watch for over twelve years. She stood the watch so that we, our families, and our fellow countrymen could sleep soundly and safely, each and every night, knowing that a sailor stood watch.”
Jessica stopped pacing and made a slow, methodical march to me; even though my tears were flowing, I stood at attention. Her words no longer boomed through the room but were just above a whisper. She spoke directly to me the last few lines.
“Today we are here to say, Shipmate, sailor, warrior, friend, Tisha…your watch stands relieved. Relieved by those you have trained, guided, led. Tisha, you stand relieved.”
“We. Have. The watch.”
She gave me a smile, then turned away from me toward the audience.
“Two bells will announce,” Jessica called out, and then two bells tolled, one after the other. I made my descent down the aisle, toward the door. Her final announcement was like a door closing on a lifetime of memories. “Petty Officer First Class Tisha McLean has departed.”
As I reached the door, the boatswain’s whistle wailed the end to my final watch.