Epilogue
brIAN
November 2016
I haven’t worn this suit since I attended the award ceremony for Dax three years ago. How fitting that I’m now suiting up for his brother’s. Except this suit isn’t fitting like it used to. In fact, it’s snugger than I remember. I button the blue jacket and hug myself, making sure there’s enough give in the fabric before grabbing my cane.
“My handsome boy,” my mom says with such pride.
“You’re just saying that because you’re obligated to.”
She walks up and places a fragile hand on my freshly shaven cheek. “You’re not an obligation. You’re my son. And you’re handsome…just like your dad.” She turns her gaze, glancing out the window, and I see the longing for what was. To a time when he was alive and the life they lived. Knowing I left her alone to deal with the aftermath of his cancer diagnosis and death has been the hardest thing to forgive myself for. What I put Echo through ranking second.
“Thanks, Mom.” Her face turns back to mine, and I smile, bringing her back to the now.
“I think we have somewhere to be,” she says, adjusting my tie.
My mom has been essential to my healing journey this past year. When I decided on this trip down memory lane, I knew she would be pivotal to include. I wouldn’t be where I am today or doing what I’m about to do if it weren’t for her.
It took me a while to get this planned. It had to be coordinated around the return of our platoon from overseas. That in itself is worth celebrating. But tonight, we’re celebrating one person.
WE ALL STAND to the side of the stage where we can’t be seen, and I watch the table Dustin and Echo sit at. She looks beautiful as ever. The jealousy I expected to feel is replaced with happiness and it surprises me. It solidifies my healing journey.
First Sergeant Mills takes the stage, and I watch Dustin’s demeanor change. He straightens his back, sitting taller. His composure is stoic, but I feel it’s taken him everything within to keep it that way. He always tried to act hard and impenetrable. But it was just a fa?ade. That’s evident now. We all walk around fragmented by what life has thrown our way, but we have the choice to continue a life in brokenness or decide to mend our hearts.
“Good evening,” Mills addresses the crowd. “We are here tonight to honor a man I’ve had the privilege of being around most of his tenure in the military. Let me start by saying Sergeant Adams wasn’t a delightful person to be around.” Everyone laughs, and Dustin even nods in acknowledgment and shrugs. “He came into the Army with a chip on his shoulder, and boy was it visible. You see, we all have different forces driving us. Some simply join because they want to protect their country. Others do so because they can’t afford college, and they want the opportunity for a better future. Some want to see the world and travel. And some, like Adams, do so because they are running with no clear destination in sight. But no matter how tough and impersonable he tried to be, protecting those around him was always his top priority. He might kick your ass, but he’d also be the one saving it in the line of duty. Which brings us to why we are here. Adams wasn’t the only one running from his past. And when his past and present collided, his protectiveness didn’t falter. In fact, it took over. I was recently made aware of the entirety of a situation and the self-sacrifice Adams did to protect the man who nominated him for a Purple Heart, Lieutenant Brian Williams.”
I take my cue and make my way to the two steps that lead up the stage. I made sure to practice beforehand, so I don’t accidentally lose my footing and fall on my face in front of everyone. Thankfully, railing lines the steps, so I have something to hold on to. Once I’m on the stage, I pause and look at the crowd. Echo throws her hand over her mouth, Dustin smiles, shaking his head, and Dax elbows him and points. Then unexpectedly and unwarranted, Dustin pushes his chair back, stands, and begins clapping as I make my way to the oak podium. Everyone else in the building follows his lead.
“Thank you, but this isn’t about me. Well, that’s a lie.” I let out a nervous laugh, resting my cane against the podium. Everyone takes their seats, and I continue. “Truth is, I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for Sergeant Adams. In fact, he saved my life twice and the second time is what I want to take this time to focus on.” I grip my fingers around the wooden sides, balancing myself and taking a deep breath. “PTSD.” I pause. “Shhh, I know. It’s not something we’re supposed to talk about. If we acknowledge it’s real, then we’re guilty of its outcomes, right? While enlisted, we not only have a duty to serve and protect our country, but we also have a duty to protect our fellow soldiers. No soldier left behind. As if being in a war isn’t damaging enough, some of us return wounded but stripped of our identity and self-worth. PTSD: post-traumatic stress disorder. It was something I didn’t fully believe in until it almost took me out.”
I look down and shake my head, remembering how low I was in that moment. I slowly glance up into the crowd, stopping at the table in front of me. Echo and Dustin give me a nod of encouragement. My eyes travel around the table, passing by Dax and Lynsie, then stopping at Echo’s parents. They both smile and nod, urging me to continue. I feel the stage slightly shift before hands are placed on me from behind. I don’t need to turn around to know. Dustin’s face says it all. The rest of our unit is now on stage with me. This wasn’t the plan, but the support gives me the strength to continue.
“You see, when I returned home, I was lost. I was injured, no longer had a career, and feared losing my wife. These things accompanied by pain pills and alcohol turned me into a monster I no longer recognized. The day I lost control and hit my wife was the day.” I suck in a deep breath and pause to gain my composure. “The day I hit my wife was the day I tried to end it all. I was so ashamed of what I had done…of what I had become. You see, six months prior, Sergeant Adams saved my life during one of our missions. And that night, lying on the floor, overdosing on prescription pills, he saved my life again. I know he was coming there with the intention of kicking my ass, not saving it. But I think the urgency behind him doing so was because he knew.” Looking down, I let the tears fall. “He knew,” I whisper. The men behind me crowd closer around me and speak words of encouragement.
“So I want to end by saying it’s easy for us to regret our past and wish things had never happened. But while I’m not proud of mine, I’m thankful for it because now that I’ve lived it, I can help others. Let’s not forget that the war in our mind is more dangerous than any other war and we are losing far too many veterans to it. I’m alive because of you.” I point out to Dustin.
And in unison, our entire platoon yells, “Sergeant Adams, come receive your Purple Heart.”