End of the Year Us

A lot has happened in the last 12 months. If you’ve read along here, you’re aware of the bigger things.  What’s been a challenge here at the end is seeing through the cloud of emotions and acknowledging a lot of good things, and positive steps happened in 2024.  Sure, we’re getting down to brass tacks on some. Bigger items, but the great things of 2023 far outweigh the negative, or the challenging.

 First, I got serious about me. Acknowledging the damaged parts of me and the help I need to get that damage under control.  Given how long the darkness had its way with me in this life - it is truly stunning that I am still here. Still pushing forward, still working to make life better for me and those closest to me.  Speaking of those closest to me, I am often stunned at the love that comes my way.  I’ve always felt alone in the world, that people just count on me to provide and I had to endure and make sure we had what we needed. 

Now I see what empathetic love is and how warm it feels.  To be loved - all of me - the light and the darkness… to be fully accepted - and have someone who’s your champion in winning not only the big battles - but sometimes simply winning the hour - or the day. 

Progress no matter how small is still progress, and we celebrate together… and it’s beautiful. 

I worry I can never ensure she knows just how much she’s loved, appreciated and respected. 

A year ago tonight I proposed to her and she said yes.  We were married 55 days later, and the journey has been the best ever. 

Thank you my love, for accepting all of me.  For your patience with me, and for your huge heart that gives me more warmth than I knew was possible. 

2023 had the worst.  The loss of my soul-dog, and the thoughts of joining the 22 a day, and here we are.  Your love. Your embrace of (again) all of me - humbles me. 

I so love you and I so look forward to the great things that are ahead for us! 

I seem to be falling apart. Good sleep hasn't existed in months.  The occasional good six hours keeps me going - but this whole experience is exhausting. 

So this week there are two new health concerns, one - and the one that bothers me the most - involves scarring on my lungs and a fear that it is asbestos related. The process of determining if it's related to asbestos is going to take a while... in the meantime we wait, continue to cough, continue to take steroids, and deal with the stomach shit from that - and wait some more. 

I was looking forward to a VetsCenter counseling appointment this week, but it got pushed to January.  

Why is it that when these appointments get canceled or pushed I fall apart?  

It's exhausting. 

I'm tired. 

I really need to get away, go camping, sit at a fire and just veg until I smell like a half burned log. 

Will I sleep better?  I don't know.  But I'd like to find out. 

Evaluation Reflection

While it took a few days and the bustle of the holidays to get past that evaluation session, I can see that some things happened within it that I hadn’t given mi h thought to. 

When he asked, what did I do with these feelings in the hours and days after the incident?  I paused, and expressed to him that life aboard ship is very busy and there’s not any time to stop and cry, or talk to someone. There’s simply too much happening on a deployed warship and no room for that. 

I did recall talking about what happened with the ship’s swimmer and he told my Chief or my DIV O because within a week of the incident I was given the opportunity to apply to surface rescue swimmer school, and I did. 

I was accepted. 

Well… he asked how’s that go? 

It went exceptionally well.  I outswam pretty much every other candidate in the class.  Was part of the top three of the class and quickly found myself back aboard my ship. 

I had many more opportunities to swim for potential rescues. He asked how many people did I pull out? 

None. 

I explained the ocean is unforgiving and we were never again literally on the spot of an incident, we were always after the fact.  All my swims were recovery of either people of their stuff. 

While that’s not exactly the best news - the fact that my actionable moment - the only thing I could control was to get myself sent to that school so that I would never again be placed in the situation of watching shipmates die… from that point on I had the training and the skills to make sure they came home.

That realization was both refreshing and then dark again - as I wasn’t able to save anyone. Just their things.  

But I did something about it - I became a swimmer. 

Now where and what is my actionable steps to keep the darkness away?  They’re literally everywhere.  From more than 500 hours a year volunteering with the Coast Guard (Auxiliary) for boating safety. To Navy League and veterans efforts around NE Wisconsin. 

It feels good to know back then when it was so fresh - I found an exceptional path forward.  

I continue to do that as best I can. 

It’s all any of us can do. 

Gotta fight through those bad days.  They are unforgiving - but we have to remember we pushed through the hardest time already and we can’t let the darkness take us now. 

We’ve come to far. 

I am (ok, was) as U.S. Navy Surface Rescue Swimmer. It was the hardest thing I ever accomplished - so if I can do that….. 

Evaluation fun

 So the VA pays outside mental health professionals to conduct evaluations to see if what we’re asking for in a PTSD claim is, in fact worthy.

I’m OK with that and was ready and on time, even a bit early for our online discussion. 

While I was prepared - I quickly realized I wasn’t ready for what happened when it ended. 

The 46 minute Q&A session was, well thorough. We talked about every piece of negativity I’ve dealt with for my entire life. Including the times of darkness when I considered suicide.

Needless to say, when the session ended my head was not in the best of places. 

It took me 15 minutes to settle and center myself to open my office door and invite the rest of my work day in. 

I got a few important things done- but wow. 

It’s now 11 hours after and it’s still bothering me. 

So be prepared. 

Recounting your past pain can easily stir things up. 

Good luck. I hope my sharing some insight is helping. 

Unpack this!

 I’m an extraordinarily lucky man to have the best friend I have in my wife. Thoughtful and caring are two of her biggest traits. Honesty is another, and this evening as I talked about some self discoveries made at my VetsCenter appointment, she got quiet. 

She cautiously approached a subject, a thought that occurred to her, and she asked me a simple question. “Do you think it’s possible you are putting many of your negative experiences from childhood and whatever else into this more easily acceptable method to cope?”  

You often say you feel less than worthy to share this horrible event you were a part of. That it somehow was not as big of a deal. Well, if that’s not a big deal then what about the childhood abduction? The name change, and all the drama for decades surrounding one parents extreme dislike of the other.  

Simply put, “are you putting all your pain into this box?” 

((Very long pause))

I don’t think so, but I’ve never thought about it. 

Am I putting all this pain here with Liberty 603? 

After a minute or more I said “I don’t think I am, I mean the leaving of these two aviators to die is a lot bigger and heavier than my life experiences as a child.  So, no. I don’t think that’s the case.”

I have to admit though, it’s an intriguing question. I’ve packed up a lot of negative emotions and experiences over my sixty years, but Liberty 603, Chris and Kevin, are the biggest piece of luggage I carry. 

Still mulling it over… But more and more believe each experience is packed away in its own case.  

It’s the only way to deal with the stuff.  And the idea that I can off-load some of this heaviness from smaller things sooner - helps me focus more on the big heavy one I’m still hauling around. 

So, no. It’s not all packed together to help me process it all.  In fact, it’s best packed away separately to make addressing it simpler. 

What therapy brings isn’t a bellman to carry my bags. But I get coaching on how to carry them all together and deal with the overlapping issues. By doing that I can decrease the number of crates I’m lugging around - eventually - hopefully - especially if we all keep talking, and dealing with it. 

Thank you baby.  Thanks for helping me take a good close look at how I’ve been doing this.  

Why feel less than?

 I arrived a little early for my appointment at the VetCenter. My usual appointment time is late in the afternoon because I have nearly an hours drive from work. But today the appointment was at 10AM.  

I was surprised when I arrived to find the parking and the waiting room nearly full.  I sat in one of two open chairs in the midst of a group of Vietnam Era vets chatting and talking about life.  The guy next to me introduces himself. He was in the army. He asks what branch I served in, I say Navy.  He then asks how long was I in? My mouth let the words “six years” fly out.  

Six? Where did that come from? I guess technically it was six with the inactive reserve time, but we all know I’m a four year sailor.  I know, but in that room, with those guys I felt like I didn’t deserve to even be there.  That’s when it happened. 

Mr. Army guy explains that this is a group, and they meet as a group every Wednesday at 10AM.

“Hey Fuzzy!” Shouts one of the veterans.  My new Army friend shakes Fuzzy’s hand and asks how he’s doing, how his wife is doing.  Fuzzy says, sorry to hear about your wife to the Army guy next to me and he says thanks. 

Army guy turns to me and says, “I recently lost my wife. We were married 52 years.” I’m so sorry to hear that, I say.  

He says, “well, think about joining us on Wednesdays, we have a good time.”  

At that moment my therapist comes up and it’s time for me to go.  “Good to meet you.”  “Sorry to hear about your wife.” He says, “thank you go talk.” 

These guys were all Vietnam guys. 

I share that with my therapist and he asks if I want to join them.  “No.”  I say quickly. 

“Why?” He asks? 

Their experiences and mine are so different. They have so many and more disruptive experiences. Me? I have this one or two things that I had to face. Easy shit compared to what they did. 

He gives me “the look.”  

Then asking why I keep belittling my experience or myself.

Deep breath. 

Value self.  That was one of the very first things we talked about and here I was failing to do that right in front of him. 

I have much to do.  

I can’t imagine trying to do this without his guidance. 

The only thing I know for sure - is without these talks, I may not be here.  There have been some really dark moments and I’ve climbed out of those with the help of two people…

My VA therapist and my wife.  

So now the whole group talk is on the table and perhaps in the new year, I’ll jump into one and see where it goes. Or more correctly see where I go with it. 

It’s a plan.  

Ups and Downs

Here we go again.

It’s been pretty good lately and then suddenly you see something, and…

Well, this time it kind of feels like it came on in a different way. 

While I occasionally “hit a wall,” this one sort of built over a week’s time. The combination of all the efforts to get sleep, research WWII naval battles (for work), and in the process learn names and family stories, etc and seeing the U.S. Air Force Osprey crash in my old stomping grounds of Japan, well… then the VA sends an e-mail saying they need more info and to have me seen and evaluated by someone else before they can decide my claim… and now my mortgage company is hacked and I can’t get my payment in…. WTF… things have just snowballed and last night that snowball hit me. I’m tired. 

No matter how it comes, I feel like the boat in the picture. Just a wreck - and cold. 

I hate it. I hate me when it happens.  I’m not pleasant to be around.  I can see it and feel it, but just let it spill over and “happen.”  Like “who cares,” or “whatever.” 

Now I feel guilty.  I ruined what could have been a couple good days with my wife, and for what?  Things I can’t control. Or should I control them? 

I know the answer. I think. 

Writing it helps - or does it?

What the…?

Just kind of a mess today. Internalizing everything for days and now leading up to Veterans Day, I’m irritated. 

I’m irritated that the VA is so big it’s hard to find out exactly what’s going on, where I stand - or what’s next. 

I’m irritated that people look at me like I’m slacking for refusing to do a work event on Saturday because I’m participating in a Veterans Day ceremony.  

I’m irritated that in my effort to try and get some sleep - I’ve stopped drinking (at least during the week), but still use an OTC sleep aid - but tonight, I’m out. Didn’t buy any more because inside I question my need for them and wonder why the hell I just can’t sleep like I used to?!!  

I question the whole process of dredging all this up from the past in order to address it and fix it… in the meantime it’s raw, and it hurts. 

I seem to be all over the place, and nowhere at the same time. 

No chart. 

No stars. 

I’m told it’s up to me. 

I, and I alone have to navigate my way through all this. 

This. This is everything I’ve grown used to doing over the years.  Now I know I don’t “have to” do anything I don’t want to do.  I can live for me… but what the hell does that look like? 

Not rally a bad day. 

More like “meh.” 

It’s going to happen to us all. 

Saying goodnight and pushing forward. 

Fingers crossed I can sleep. 

If that happens - I’ll wake victorious, and todays “meh” will have been worth it. 

Follow up: Where did this come from?

 

I’m grateful for so many things, especially this woman who married me. 

At the end of that dark day Wednesday, she quietly and patiently explored with me where it was all coming from. She didn’t judge. She didn’t question me. It was a caring journey through the unknown where she held me, she held my soul, and while we found no smoking gun, no one particular reason, along the way we found a peacefulness as we explored together. 

I cried. She cried.  We came home, together. Home to that place where all that other noise is far away, and all that’s important is wrapped around us. 

I am so grateful for her. I can’t find the words to describe her. But I don’t need to. I know her and trust her beyond this earthly existence, and I know in my soul she feels the same about me. We are here, each for the other. 

There’s no bigger gift. No lottery big enough. What we have is rare. We get that. We are in awe of that, and hand in hand we walked back to this place last night. This place bathed in warm light. 

I’m so grateful. 

Honestly, tell me where you hurt...

This is what I am eternally grateful for. I have someone who, even though she has her own struggles, knows all of mine, and loves me from that most painful and hurtful point - to the rest of my entire being.

I pray she knows I love her the exact same way. From her most hurt self, through that amazing loving, outgoing human she shows the world. Everything and all she is. 

God knows where we'd be if this two-way street of honesty and acceptance didn't exist. 

 
 

Where did this come From?

I’m suddenly lost. 

Yesterday was really a great day. I saw my son I had such a good session with my Vet Center therapist. I felt so good, I can remember thinking to myself on the ride home; my gosh I didn’t know that I’d been this content, this happy with my life.  

I wake up today and nothing in my world has changed. 

Except me. 

That light from yesterday? It's gone. 

Today, for no specific reason, it’s dark. I truly hate these days. 

Trying to bust out of it, I invite my wife to meet me for lunch. When we settle in at the table she says, “What’s wrong baby?”  “Why do you have such sad eyes?” 

I honestly don’t know why. But I don’t share that. Instead, I ramble a bit about seeing my 20-year-old son yesterday and I miss having him around. Stress at work. Whatever I can say other than "I don't know."  I mean, how can we not know why this happens to us?  

My voice quivered a few times in our lunch chat. I was on the verge of just losing it, crying about being mystifiedly sad. I made it through. I didn’t let it take me.  

It’s a victory, but it's also weird. I just don’t feel comfortable in my own skin today. Something isn’t right and I can’t put my finger on it. 

As I write this right now… I realize it’s one of those waves. Out of nowhere, although not really nowhere- something this morning must have triggered this dark wave. 

I did allow myself to travel back where I once was… and I did that this morning. I consciously thought “Oh I don’t have those old nightmares anymore… the ones where every part of my life was sinking in the water."  

I will never forget being with that initial VA therapist and her asking if I had recurring dreams. 

I thought for only a second and realized I did, and started to share. The more I told her the more she nodded and took notes.  

The dream. The one I've had for decades, where the scene is always exactly the same, but there's some unsuccessful rescue.  It's the one where every chapter of my life appears as a townhouse apartment. But they're all joined together as one long building that is somehow afloat and adrift in a storm, partially sinking. In these dreams, each of my exes had an apartment and my mother had one as well. They were all sinking and I was going from door to door trying to save them. Trying to rescue them. Sometimes swimming, sometimes climbing on the exterior walls, or reaching in an open window to save my kids, or my ex. 

I remember how the therapist looked at me. She was aware of the E2C crash event, that's why I was there. But until she looked at me like, 'You're kidding right?' I had never connected those dreams to that incident until that moment. All that swimming, trying to save different parts of my life that I couldn't. Decades of this dream were always the same space, the same stage with different scenarios unfolding within it. 

Could just strolling down that lane of memories have invited this darkness back?  Or do I simply need to just get all that sadness out?  

I've sent the guys off in that awesome beach ceremony - but I still have all this darkness piled up inside me.  Maybe I just need to let it out. 

Maybe I can allow myself to let the darkness take me and sob for their loss. Will that make me feel better?  I hear countless advisors saying no. 

Now I'm ticked off at myself!  Why didn't this happen yesterday?  Why was this not a part of who I was yesterday when I was sitting with a therapist who could help me grasp and control it?

It's terribly frustrating. 

Today, I simply want to go home - and forget what cannot be forgotten. 

Somehow sharing it through these very words lightens it. It helps to share it with strangers. I have shared the existence of this blog with some friends - I have no idea if they've visited and what their impressions are. Honestly, it doesn't matter. 

I've shared it, and everything I've taken from within me and put here. 

It certainly seems somehow at least a little less potent now that it's here. 

Certainly less explosive. 

I need to remember that. 

Those Ah-ha Moments

They’re fantastic when they happen. So far they’ve been pretty small affairs of sudden realization(s).

This morning, not long after finishing the previous post  I was struck by a simple thought, and then that thought sent me into a deep and more sudden realization of just how much my life has changed. 

The first realization?  It’s kind of gross. 

“I had smooth feet!” 

For as long as I can remember, like all the way back to 1989, I had a habit that was my way of dealing with anxiety - and I couldn’t control it. I just did it. No matter the pain. I would pick at me feet. Continuously. I would peel strips of skin off, sometimes an inch long.  My feet were a bloody mess. Many times it hurt to walk, sometimes that pain would last for a couple days. 

Those closest to me saw it. It wasn’t pretty. 

Try as they might to get me to stop, I couldn’t.

As I sat here this morning eating my oatmeal, I reached down and scratched my foot. It was smooth. I had the sudden realization I had not peeled away anything in, well… months? Surprised, I started to try and figure out when I quit doing that. 

Best I can figure it’s this year. Early this year. 

Two things happened in the first 45 days of 2023; I finally reached out for, and started getting help from the VA with all of my messy self that came from my time in uniform. And secondly; I made a massive change in my life to not settle. I also lost my amazing dog Seabee. But I think she handed me off.  She got me to a place, and a person who I was finally ready for. 

I’d been in a good relationship for six years. But honestly, we had both settled for a good person - but not one we were madly and completely bonkers for. 

I had crossed paths a few years ago with a high school classmate to whom I had forged a fantastic friendship with while we were in school together.  I did ask her out once when I was a senior, but she was always the smart one and said it would ruin the friendship if we dated. So we didn’t date. 

Fast forward 40 years, we talk, it’s still like she can finish my sentences, and I hers. We were both with others so we stayed friends. 

Then we finally asked why? 

Why are we settling for things less than what our friendship brings? Maybe we should free ourselves and see what’s here! 

We did. 

It is very much alive and beyond my dreams for what a relationship could be.  She knows me, and I know her. We knew each other early and loved and appreciated who we were then.  Now it goes beyond our wildest expectations.

On a recent trip back “home” to Florida - we discovered that in 1990 when both our first marriages failed and we each were home alone raising a young son…  we lived around the corner from each other and never knew it. 

Life has many close calls.  

I’ve had many close calls.  From getting sucked under the ship, to crashing in a news helicopter, and some of the fun stuff you read here - it’s amazing that I’m still here. 

What’s more amazing is that I’m with someone who instinctively seems to know how to steer me, guide me through the occasional darkness. 

I celebrate her being in my life many times each day. 

Today I also celebrate smooth feet. 

She surely played a role in that too. 

I so love you Lisa. 

And yes, perhaps I should have asked more than once! But as we both know we were not the people we are today. Today’s Kevin and Lisa are forging a life like no other. 

Yesterday was Hard

 

It was.  If you read the previous post you already know that. Today (the day after) is already very different in a much more positive way. 

Is it because it’s a work day?  I’d be tempted to say that plays into it at least a little. But honestly I believe it’s because I pushed through. 

My wife just stayed centered all day yesterday. Supportive and non-demanding.  She told me I didn’t have to do anything, I could do whatever I wanted. Even if it was nothing. 

Instead I got the door painted and started on the master bedroom walk-in closet. It’s nowhere near finished - but it is well on its way. In fact, it may be possible to wrap up the closet and hang the new door all in the next block of time I get.  

Because I stared two projects - and didn’t have the time to finish it would be easy to drown in the incompleteness darkness.  Instead, I see the progress made. Solid progress, and not all of it relates to the home improvement - but also to my improvement. 

Loving support like I get from my bride, combined with the hard-core reality life skills and tools I get from my counseling  combined to get me through. 

They can’t keep that darkness from coming at me. They can’t keep it from always being a threat, but they give me tools I can use to beat it when it does come for me. 

It’s a new day, a cold autumn day, but it’s crisp with opportunity and loaded with fresh lessons. 

So what’s the take-a-way? 

The darkness likely will always try to make a come back, so we have to stay strong - keep working on ourselves, so we’re ready to defend our happiness when needed. 

Interesting. 

Sounds like I’m in the damn Navy again.  Train. Train. Train, for a battle that may never come. But if it does - we bring it to the approaching enemy and we fight hard - and win. 

It’s what we do. 

It’s what we have to do. 

Internal Tug of War

I struggle with the down time.  Work is easy, it’s easy to focus, set goals and get things done. Whatever it takes to meet my professional obligations and goals, well, gets my focus. 

Me time seems almost empty and without purpose. But it’s not just me time, it’s our time. 

I have an amazing woman by my side and on those days where we’re home, no work obligations, no family obligations, I feel overwhelmed, nearly frozen and unable to decide what to do, where to begin. 

There are days I just want to turn off the lights and crawl into bed and sleep. 

But there’s so much that needs doing. I’ve got more than a few half started home improvement projects that haven’t advanced much. 

On days like today - I give myself a list of things I want to accomplish - and it’s ridiculously big. There’s simply no way all of that will get done.  Why do we set ourselves up for this kind of failure?  

I know I just need to tackle ONE thing. One. 

It just feels wrong, feels lazy. But damn it that’s ok. 

Deep breath. 

Pick a project, one project, and get it done.  How hard can it be. Not a day long project (because half the day is already gone), but one I can hit out of the park and bask in the warmth of its completion. 

Which one? 

LOL

OK, I’ll try this. 

It feels good to be making progress, even if it’s small, it’s still progress.

But all of a sudden the guilt blanket engulfs the endorphins that were happily coming out of their shells. 

So much to celebrate in my life.  My sons. My wife. Everything.  Yet when the blanket engulfs - it’s heavy, and it fights to cause more darkness. 

Guilt. 

I’m so blessed, so lucky. 

Why me? Why not them?  Why did they not get this far? Kids, marriages, (not necessarily in that order). 

Why was their life cut short, and most of all - why did we witness it and do absolutely nothing? 

Keep painting. 

This project will look good and it will feel good to have it done. 

Won’t it?

Friends Matter

They’re everything.  They are the family you get to choose. 

The love, respect, honestly that true friends being to a game of pool, is life. 

It’s competitive, but it’s the life parallel we should shoot for. 

There are successes and failures and no matter the team we’re on on it’s still fun. 

We still laugh. We are friends. We are the family we choose. 

How amazing is that? 

I have these friends and they anchor me, thus my family and my life. 

There is no bigger blessing.  

Hold Fast... or Else

 

My wife knows my battles and she knows me.  She recently surprised me with one of these 'Hold Fast' bracelets.  I've worn it daily ever since. It means the world to me and reminds me not only to hold the line against the darkness, but that she has my back in the fight. 

My god I love her. 

I put it on as I left the house this morning and while sitting  here after dinner watching Thursday Night Football - I realize it's not on my wrist.  Now my mind is racing and I can not recall taking it off, or where it may be.  I shared this with her and she - as always - is supportive and comforting. "It's probably on your desk at work" she said.  I hope she's right. It's a small token. but it has tremendous meaning for me and for us. 

UPDATE: Ya, it was in the drawer of my bedside table. My bad.  It never made it onto my wrist yesterday.  Too much on my mind? Or is age having more of an impact than I realize? 

It's an Unbelievable Bond - IYKYK

 

So deep breath and I set up the computer, downloaded the forms and started to fill them out.  Telling the story again. It's part of me, so it's not hard for the words to come, I just don't like what they do to me. 

Yes, I got the forms done. 

No, I didn't sleep a wink. 

It was all right there again, fresh, images, the feelings everything.  I felt guilty that I was tossing and turning so bad, I know I was keeping my wife awake, so I went to the other bedroom, took a sleeping pill and tried to find peace in the darkness.  It eventually came, but it wasn't good and it was only for a couple hours.  But the forms are done!  Now I just needed to get them uploaded to the VA system.  So I scanned them, and fired off an e-mail to the local VSO who has been helpful for the last year in hopes they'll take them and load them directly into my case file. 

While I wait, I also reached out to a former co-worker who happens to also be a Marine Corp veteran.  Back in 1999 I shared my story with him and he was awesome, and suggested back then that I contact the VA and get some help with it.  Of course I didn't - and I sure wish I had!  But I asked if he'd be willing to write up a statement about what I told him and when. His answer was instantaneous and "you got it!" 

Today I asked a shipmate who was there that night if they'd simply write their memories of that night confirming for the VA that this actually happened. The reply again, instant and "absolutely." 

These are my brothers, veterans and shipmates who know. They know the trust we had to have in each other when we were in uniform, and that trust and support is there for a lifetime. 

I'm humbled. 

I'm grateful. 

Optimistic. 

Old Wounds, New Salt

 

Why does this have to be so hard?  I get it. It's a huge organization with an even bigger job of trying to care for all sorts of things for veterans, and there are going to be bureaucratic hurdles and paperwork beyond paperwork. But sometimes what you are asking us to do actually inflicts more harm. This should not be the case. 

I have filed a couple claims, one for my hearing loss and one for PTSD from a couple events aboard my ship. The hearing process was fluid, moved along, and was a solid experience. Now I am attempting to get care for these ears - like new hearing aids, and it seems the VA is now diving deep.  I am working to get set up on Community Care for what they're calling a "Primary Care" visit. Now, they already know it's a hearing issue, but it seems we need to do this primary care thing first. I called our local VSO and talked to them, and they concur with me that it's likely just a step in the process - and that the doctor will refer me to the hearing specialist I really want to see anyway.  

So we wait, fingers crossed that this is how it goes. We shall see. 

In the meantime, my claim regarding post-traumatic stress disorder is pending.  If you read this blog, you know that I have been seeing a counselor (a good one) at the local Vets Center. A couple weeks ago I wrote about how the VA had requested his notes from all my visits and his assessment of me.  My therapist, being a truly honorable guy, wanted me to read everything that was being sent to the VA and get my nod that it was really OK to share all that. There was A LOT in that report and while it brought back a lot to read where I was and revisit the process of how I got here, I said it was OK to send. 

I came home from the reunion to find a detailed letter from the VA asking me to verify my experiences and get corroboration statements from people I told about my experience over the last 30+ years. 

So not only does the VA want me to write a detailed story about each of these two events, but they also want to know who else knows, and what they know, and when I told them, just in case they may want to talk to them about me and my experience. 

But they also recognize how this may be sort of triggering and traumatizing - by stating if you feel this, way, or that way to call this number (the hotline).  So let me get this straight... you have all the info from the VetCenter therapist, and you have my basic statement on the claim (a few sentences) but now that I am where I am in dealing with this you want me to - stop - step back and recall all the shit that got me to where I was? How ****** up is that?   

I'll do it. I can do it. 

I'll do my best to do it and manage myself through doing it with hopefully as little impact as possible. But I have to say, I think this is wholly unfair. Why was there not space provided on the initial application forms for all this detail?  Ask for it then!  BEFORE we start the healing process. 

I am grateful for the counseling I've had thus far, I can't imagine the depths this process could take someone when they already find themselves so deep in a hole that they finally ask for help (and that takes a long time with veterans)... and then without any help, ask them to write in detail about the trauma that has turned their lives upside down. 

We could reduce the 22-a-day number with a much more caring process. 

Bureaucracy sucks.

The jury is still out on the VA. 

As they say in TV news... stay tuned.  

2023 Ship's Reunion

With our captain, Bary Burrow attending it was the largest reunion for USS Towers sailors in many years. 

I arrived at the end of day one and ran into the captain as he left the dinner in a nearby restaurant. 

Today marks one week since the handshake in the photo to the left. It was deeply emotional. This man turned a bunch of young sailors and old salts into one hell of a crew and when the time came to go places and face off with bad guys, we were the absolute best and knew we'd win any scenario we found ourselves in. Our time in the Persian Gulf had some smaller events unfold, but (sadly) it was mostly uneventful. 

While we were there, Captain Burrow tried his damnedest to first, get me in an officers program, and then simply keep me in the Navy. The Navy didn't have the options the younger me wanted and I left the greatest ship, crew, and Navy to become a civilian. 

Fast forward to 2023 and the sailors of the USS Towers are gathering in Bremerton, Washington. For the first time, the 1980's sailors are there in force. What a fantastic week. What's stunning is that other than our physical appearance (and fitness), no one has changed.  We are who were have always been, and for nearly forty years we've been shipmates.  For those who don't know a shipmate is pretty much a brother. Whether you like them or not is unimportant, we love each other like family. It comes from the shared experiences while underway and while exploring mysterious new places around the world. 

The reunion gave us all the opportunity to visit the USS Turner Joy, not exactly like Towers, but close enough that we all found ourselves telling even more stories.  Every direction we looked there was something familiar to touch and a dozen stories to go along with it. 

The week went by way too fast. The feeling while there is inexplicable, but I'll try; it's like a high, comfort and familiarity unlike anything else. 

And when it ends the group is huddled, still sharing stories in the hotel lobby. It seems like no one wants to leave. It literally takes hours to peel ourselves away. 

By my side, the entire time is my wife. I cannot say enough positive things about how she loves and supports me. She seems to get as much reward from the visits within the reunion as I do.  I love her so much for that - and for being the glue that keeps me together. 

When we get home, the world flips. Back to work is always a post-vacation hurdle for everyone, but this is different. Flung back into the everyday work relationships that are seen as so close, and bonded - they suddenly feel less-than and somewhat hollow. Do we really have each other's back like we say? Because when I compare it to the bond I have with those shipmates, it comes up short.  That's not to say we don't care about each other (a lot) in this civilian workplace, but it is far from that battle-ready bond that affects a warship's crew for life. Which is sad. So sad that I can't help but shed some tears. My shipmates and I went through a lot.  

So now I ask myself why I am going through these hollow motions and not living life, breathing it in,  traveling, and having new experiences?  After all, I am now sixty years old. The proverbial clock is ticking. Loudly. Why am I giving so much of myself to others and other efforts (that I volunteer with), when it doesn't resonate with me the way this other experience does.  

The only other experience that resonates this way is with my wife and sons. 

There it is.  The difference.

The bonds of family, whether by blood, love, or service - bind for life. 

So I get a call from the Vets Center counselor. 

I need you to come in and go over the paperwork we have been asked to share with the VA. We want to make sure you are good with what we're sharing. 

So I get up early the next day drive the 60-miles and sit down to read over my history with Vets Center Counseling. Every note, every Q&A session, and it was a lot. 

Seeing what caught the counselor's ear... in writing... began to become disturbing after a few paragraphs. Key words flashing by as I scanned the pages of text.  Survivor's guilt, abuse, darkness, depression, insomnia... it kept on and on.  

Things I've talked about only a couple times in my life, are now text in a VA computer system. My innermost thoughts, memories, fears and more - all there for the next person to read, and decide... does this veteran have a right to benefits because of what happened to him? 

We shall see.  

As the Vets Center counselor said, "someone who makes a lot more money than I do will read it and decide." 

How can they judge? What's their experience? Who gets to decide? 

All questions without answers... for now. 

 

A Cold Walk in the Water

I did it.

38 years after it happened, I sat down and hand-wrote a letter to both Kevin and Chris, the U.S. Navy Aviators we couldn’t rescue that night in August 1985 in the North Arabian Sea.  

It was not an easy letter to write. But telling them how I felt, and asking their forgiveness instantly made things happen. The moment I wrote “Please forgive me and all of us there for not …”  I knew, I heard it in my head, as if from their voice; “there’s nothing to forgive.”  

As if they were beside me watching the tears stream down my cheeks as I wrote at my desk at work, I heard what I needed to hear… their perspective. Something that I guess I never really gave much thought to. I mean I did, we didn't pull them out that night. The guilt of that has been heavy for decades.  Were they dead? Alive? I thought about them, unconscious in the plane, waiting. But their perspective today, that thought had never crossed my mind until now. 

What would they have said about that entire operation? They said it to me as I wrote, and it lifted the weight I'd been carrying for nearly four decades. 

It wasn’t our fault. It wasn’t my fault. It was no one’s fault. It’s simply something that happened. 

All of us there that night were changed by it, some lived to tell the story; two did not. 

Getting it out, with a pen in my hand - not typing, was cathartic, and putting it all up in flames - and sending it off to the waves… was freeing.  

That night, at sunset, on the 38th anniversary (17 August) on the beach in Jacksonport, Wisconsin, It did not go quite as planned. But as my wife pointed out, neither did their mission.  

Appropriate I think to send it off on an inland sea, close to my home, my deepest most painful memories, on fire. 

Lake Michigan was having none of it and a wave washed over the float extinguishing the flames. 

But the wave made the envelope clear, and I could see writing and a photo of the plane. 

I tried to chase it down, to set it on fire again, and they would not have it.  The wind picked up and the waves carried it away quicker than I could catch up and before I knew it the 58-degree water was too deep to chase them in. 

Not only was too deep, they were on their way too fast for me to hold on to. 

Read that again.  They were on their way too fast for me to hold on to. 

I had hoped and prayed to do this would lift my spirit, but I had no idea the direct messages it would send. Very direct. 

The events of that night helped shape who I am and from time to time the sadness of losing them is overwhelming. But I also know now that they are in a good place. They knew the risks when they put on that uniform and they knew we were there.  They also know it's not mine, or anyone else aboard Towers fault. It wasn't the fault of the crew on the rescue chopper, or other ships there that night... it's not on us. 

It just happened. 

I will never forget that night, and now I will never forget how they ran from me when I tried to catch them... how it seemed they tried to take the guilt away quickly. 

Thank you, Chris and Kevin.  Thank you Liberty 603. 

I remain beyond sad that we could not get you to safety that night - but I also know we're good. 

I felt you there at the beach in Jacksonport Wisconsin.  

Every year on New Year we will come back with hundreds of others and take a swim in freezing water and we will remember your service, your sacrifice, and our eternal brotherhood.  It's an honor for me (and my wife) to do that. 

Fair Winds and Following Seas Shipmates. 

We will #NeverForget.  

Lost on his birthday

There are two dates floating around the internet about this incident. I go with August 14th versus August 7th as the date Liberty 603 went off the flight deck of the USS Midway and slammed into the North Arabian Sea at 0200.  The E2-C aircraft - the same one pictured here, had five personnel aboard. 

The USS Towers was in plane-guard position 1500 yards astern of Midway and we were first on the scene. The details of all that unfolded after that are well documented in this blog. Three of the five personnel were rescued. Two were lost forever that night. 

That means Lt. Kuhnigk lost his life just 72 hours after his 27th birthday. It most likely means he crashed into the ocean and was lost on his birthday. But declared lost by the Navy after 72 hours of searching. 

If I knew that, I'd forgotten it until tonight. 

Rest easy Lt. Kuhnigk and Ensign Christopher Mims, you are lost and missing, but you are held dearly in the hearts of your family and in those who were there that night. 

We honor your service at every opportunity.  I will continue to tell your stories. 

We never met, but I was there that night in August 1985 on that very dark moonless night on the North Arabian Sea. But I know we’ve met since then. Just in a different way. 

I'm not the only one who has carried some of you with them every day since. I know you know that now. 

This week - I will be honoring you both - and giving you a proper send off because I now know you don't want others to carry any guilt with them from that night. 

Oh how I wish that night had been different. 

I hope you can accept the ceremony happening on a Great Lake (an inland sea) instead of the North Arabian Sea.  

It's time to let go of what happened on that night. 

Thank you for understanding. 

With more respect than you can imagine, 

Kevin Osgood, BM2, Surface Rescue Swimmer, USN 

Don't Mess With the Ripples

Ripples.  They expand from the source of impact in perfect circles touching anything and everything around them. They started from something big. Bigger than the ripples. When we toss a rock into the water we tend to watch the ripples expand...  When something smashes into our lives that we feel negativity or shame about, we try endlessly to control the ripples. We don't want the darkness to hit other parts of our lives. We block out things, hide them, ignore, and let it simmer until it becomes 100 proof resentment that roars its way into the lives of those very same people we desperately want to protect. 

As I was exploring this with my VA therapist, I realized all the years of massive effort that went into trying to stop the ripples.  Trying to stop the inevitable with denial, both to myself and to others.  But mostly not trusting myself to deal with those ripples. Block em. 

Now I can see the madness of that and how it feeds the frustration and churns it into highly explosive resentment. I think about those resent filled explosions that had built up after years of denial. Even in the aftermath of those explosions, I never fessed up that I was trying to deal with something that I couldn't deal with... the ripples. 

My trying to block those ripped ripped into me, and pushed me to anxiety filled rage at times. Other in my life paid a price. For that I apologize, and I’m deeply sorry. 

Stop trying to control those ripples.  Let them roll through our life and let those you love know about them, give them a heads-up that they are there and how you feel. Give them the gift of supporting you. 

It's the only way to keep those ripples from becoming a tidal wave of frustration, resentment and anger. 

There is no one to be mad at. 

It happened. 

The rock hit the water - the ripples are flowing... don't try to control them. 

You can't. 

Pass the word

 

Boats! 

Aye sir.

Pass the word….

That’s where whatever the crew needs to know is shared. From setting the sea and anchor detail, to the smoking lamp is out. 

It’s time to share what a few already know. 

So, now hear this; I’m starting to let those closest to me know that I have struggled for years with trauma that came from an incident or two I experienced aboard the U.S. Navy ship I love - the Towers.

I’m not the only Navy veteran, or Towers veteran that has struggles due to experiences aboard ship. Life on a U.S. Navy warship molds a person. In many ways it made all of us, including me, much better than we were. It gave us skills, and experiences that we’d never have if not for our time aboard. That life is also dangerous, things happen and people get hurt, sometimes they’re are killed or lost - or both. 

That environment of constant risk makes the crew into life-long brothers known as shipmates. We “get” each other and we support each other.  We’d of died for each other and that’s a feeling that creates a life-long bond that can’t be undone. 

PTSD. 

Ya. There it is. 

It’s been a rolling darkness that engulfs me for more than three decades. It gives no warning. It just shows up and implodes whatever is happening in your life for that moment, that day, or that week. 

Like the previous post - until you turn toward the fight, close the distance and bring the battle to the enemy - you’re letting it win. 

No more. 

I’ve turned and am bringing the fight to this adversary, and now some family and friends are finding out something they never knew about me. 

I don’t care. They can judge if they want to - but don’t utter a word like that to me.  Don’t say “you were never in combat.” Because you have no idea what you’re talking about. 

Several years ago, that’s exactly what the person closest to me once said. 

“You were never in combat, how can you have this?” 

I was shocked. I thought I really knew this person. I thought they knew me. I thought they loved me! I’m sure they loved me, but rather than empathy - it was a question, a challenge to my feelings. 

I explained but could see it made no real difference. Their face showed that. They looked at me like I was claiming valor I didn’t deserve.  When in reality I was claiming a piece of myself that I deserved very much to keep. 

The temptation today may be to straight up punch someone in the face who says something similar. I know it won’t help, but it might feel good. 

So now you know.  

I love and appreciate my wife, my family, and my inner circle of friends. That circle of trust is certainly growing as I share all this with strangers too. 

But I trust. I trust those around me with me. If you see this journey of mine as something other than what it is - that’s on you and I feel for you.  I feel for you because something is blocking your empathy for others. 

I wish you the best in your journey to find out what and why that is. 

For the rest of you, don’t say a thing. I don’t need to hear it. I just needed to let you know. Now you do. 

Thanks for listening. 

That is all. 

All Ahead!

Like the order given on the bridge of a warship underway, it’s time to turn toward the “why we’re here” and take it on. 

General quarters if you will.  

“Value Self” is the theme moving forward. It seems I am allowed to be the main reason I choose to do this - or that.  I don’t have to do it for others. Not even the guys from Liberty 603. Not for my mother, or father, or anyone. Just me is a valid reason. That seems so selfish and out of line with not only me, but what we want in society. 

My VA therapist countered with the concept that if you keep doing everything for everyone else and not yourself - that too will become overwhelmingly selfish, and likely put you in a place and situations where you can’t win, you can’t function, risking more and more of every thing I’m trying to rid from my life now.  The anxiety, the anger, the frustration that paralyzes me. 

Draw boundaries. Don’t justify an action that will (eventually) bring more anxiety, anger, and frustration. 

Make stronger choices for myself. 

Breaking three decades - no, a lifetime of this habit won’t be easy. 

As I left the session I texted my wife. I do that every visit. I want to share what happens and I also want to document in text - just what I’m feeling when I leave so I can better reflect and stay focused moving forward. 

This is what she wrote back: 

“I'm referring here to the ongoing narratives that we tell ourselves about who we are and why life is the way that it is.

If the story you tell yourself about who you are causes you deep pain - it's not true. 

If the story you tell yourself about why something isn't happening or can't be done hurts deeply - it's also very likely not 'true.'

If the themes in your stories cause you pain, they're often related to your worth as a human being. 

That you're not enough, that you're too much, that you're too broken, that something isn't meant for you.

That people don't show up for you because of who you are.

Or that your loneliness is caused by some sort of defect within you.

But none of that is actually true.

Your worth as a human being cannot be questioned. 

You're enough, now and always. 

You always deserve love, care, tenderness, and understanding.

You're human and you're fallible, but that's part of what makes you beautiful, relatable, dynamic, and interesting. 

Just start to notice - when the stories start to feel really painful, are they tied back to your worth as a person?

If so, take a breath and let it go. It's not true.

Resume from a place of compassion and knowing that you are lovable and worthy, even if you're not getting what you need in this moment.”

Have a great day, baby. I love you!”

Call it blessed, or luck, but I am so grateful for her and the ways she sees me.  

It feels good to know someone sees the same challenge I see and is confident I can take it on.

Reminds me of a shipmate. They’ve got your back, always and forever. 

I (and you) are never alone in your struggles. 

Now it makes total sense.  

U.S. Navy… Semper Fortis. 

Always Strong 

The Dog That Saved My Life

I almost don’t know where to start, so we’ll start at day one of what became a decade of love, trust, and friendship. 

It was almost as if she had been specifically trained for me. She was my service dog, and I found her abandoned in a public park in Abilene Texas on the Friday of Memorial Day weekend 2012. 

She was skinny and had multiple infections and she came to me as soon as I pulled in the park.  

After a trip to the vet and weeks of posting her picture and seeking reports of a lost dog, it was clear she was staying. 

Since we found each other in Seabee Park, I named her Seabee. 

She seemed trained to know sadness was coming. She never barked, except that one time I came home early and faked a break in to scare my 12 year of son. Seabee came to his instant defense. 

She slept beside me from the first night - and every night for almost 11 years.  

She seemed to know when I was at my lowest, as she’d get close and rest her head on my hand or leg.  She’d jump into my lap and make her 50 pound self comfortable. She’d sleep next to my desk at work - and snore. Loudly. 

If I took her to the dog park, she’d ignore the other dogs and go socialize with all the people.  She was all love. Pure love.

I didn’t realize how much that constant stream of unconditional love and attention meant to my spirit until that last night when she awoke, gasped for air, and went back to sleep (or so I thought). 

12:01 AM January 2, 2023 her body failed her spirit and stopped. 

I know she’s in a better place and I know she’s still watching over me.  She may have even helped direct one weirdly perfect puppy in my direction.  

Don’t under estimate the power of a dog’s love. I swear they’re angels.  Well, at least one was. Now, 7 months down the road, I can see she left right before I contacted the VA for help. Or was it because I didn’t have her to lean on that helped push me to reach out? 

She’s still out there somewhere and I know I’ll see her again. 

Thank you Seabee Rose.  You saved my life.

You’re Not for Everyone

You’re not for everyone but you are most definitely for someone.

And when you find yourself caught in the trap of ‘people-pleasing, remind yourself quickly That you are ‘people’ too. 

And further refresh your memory by recalling that pleasing everyone is not possible. It cannot be done. 

Just like the sun cannot shine on all faces at once - but when it does, when you are for someone it is more than enough.

You’re not for everyone but it’s the ‘someones’ who matter most. The ‘someones’ who will breathe you new life when your lungs forget how.

Love your ‘someones’. They’re the only ones you need. 

~ Donna Ashworth

Learning Where I am on the Path

I didn’t deserve anything, let alone the good things that came along. 

I was self- abusive… There were times I did things that I knew would destroy my relationship, or hurt me. On purpose.  

Easier for them, just toss me away, like trash… I don’t deserve to be here… and they definitely deserve better. 

I made it impossible for me to be me… because I, me, didn’t exist.  I had molded so much of myself into what others wanted me to be – and fought myself internally about that choice constantly. All for some unknown reason. 

So a simple question like, Who am I?  Can be tough to answer. 

I was someone who didn’t matter… I didn’t matter because I am still here and those who needed me so they could stay alive... well they didn't get that. That night they got nothing, and lost everything. 

We left them. Wasn’t by choice – but we still left them. 

So, I put all my effort and energy into work… providing for my family… to the point where time was lost – moments that can’t be re-created are gone forever. Overworked on purpose. Study leadership and be responsible to lead, and direct an endeavor.  It takes a lot of time, a lot of work.  The results include fewer vacations and less time at home. It reduced time together in my relationships.  After all, who needs to know about me, the person I am, who didn’t stand up for those who really needed me. We don’t need to know because I am who you want me to be. I knew I left all traces of me behind years ago. Well, I tried, but it’s a formula for becoming a mess. A mess that good people can only tolerate for so long before they’ve had enough.  

There’s still free time, so volunteer and overcommit to good causes.  Good causes that truly impact the community so no one can really call you out on giving your time to that – and if they do – your conscious mind can force the internal debate because, after all they need me to do this and it’s having a positive impact on our community. 

Perhaps that has had some impact on the relationships that I have had and lost. While not the singular reason for multiple failed relationships, it is certainly a strong factor.  I can see now, after just a short amount of time facing this darkness with help… that my internal hurt was – in effect – hurting those who cared the most about me. 

I never saw that until this week, and I am so very sorry to those I hurt. I want to get on Facebook and apologize to all, but that ship has sailed. What's important now is now. Not the past. But if by chance one of you that I hurt is reading this, know that I am deeply sorry that I hurt you. 

So, how did I get to a place to even start to consider help? 

A combination of that deep pit of denial where this whole experience had been buried had just leaked so much corrosion into my life that it couldn’t be ignored any longer – and the arrival of a special person who hadn’t seen me since before the incident. A high school friend who knew me well.  We were best friends and lost touch when I went overseas with the Navy.  

Here she was, nearly 40 years later asking me questions about my life with all this genuine curiosity and interest. She asked me “Who are you, and what do you like to do?”  I couldn’t answer… stammering with some mix-mash I made it work, but she knew.  She saw and sensed it.  In a moment of great frustration over something important she made me stop, and look into her eyes and she told me that it was “OK for me to feel.”  

I cried. I don’t know why, but I did. She held me and started helping me see the walls I had built around me. She saw them, and I didn’t – until then. 

NOW

I am told that allowing myself to feel this pain I have been carrying is not going to be easy. But it’s needed so I can give it the respect it deserves and then properly place it behind me on the path I’ve already traveled.  

Breathe and live in the moment. 

Don’t worry about tomorrow. 

Don’t carry the burdens of the past.  

Breathe in the present, and live there.

Sounds so easy.  My counselor said it wouldn't be, and he also said if I work just as hard at doing this positive stuff as I did at burring all the darkness, it'll be a smaller hill to climb. 

What's a Vets Center?

Dreams

For more than a decade I can remember having dreams about my failed and failing relationships.  They always had some common elements. One was the ex’s were always there. It seemed as though they all lived next door to each other in apartments. In every dream the apartments were engulfed in water. Like on an ocean and in danger of sinking. Sometimes the focus was trying to save them all… and sometimes it was one of my son’s that needed saving.  All these dreams about all these challenges in my life.  I even googled them in the morning and never once. Not once, did the water connect back to August 1985 and Liberty 603… Until counseling this past May. 

Underneath everything in my world there was this darkness of the water and it was always a threat to my family and I never saw it until the VA counselor asked me if I'd looked at it that way.  The water was always a threat, but I never connected it to that night – and never connected it as a common thread back to that incident. 

Sometimes it’s really important to share outside of family. Outside of friendships. Take advantage of the VetsCenter near you. It’s not the VA, it’s easy to get in and talk, and it costs nothing, and it could change – or save your life.  

I’m convinced it saved mine. 

Time to Revisit the Past and Bring Some Light

It's been a while since I've been here and written anything. Like 17 years. Reading it today, these 'sea stories' are a part of me. Which is where this blog started... and ironically, where we are again these days. 

Right back at the beginning.  Except this time with new realizations and purpose. 

The story about "My most vivid memory aboard Towers" is why I am again back here. Only now I see more than I did back then. I've learned more than I knew back then. 

Mainly, I had no idea just how that 'vivid memory' had impacted me, and thus everyone around me for decades... that is until recently. 

It's not easy seeing people and knowing they can be rescued but not being given the chance to even try. Orders are orders and we all followed them, and I have a pretty good idea why. But the brain and the heart don't let it go. They hold that guilt close. We may box it up and work to bury it deep. But it comes back. It's corrosive and the longer you let it sit in that deep internal pit the more dangerous it becomes. 

I know more about the two U.S. Naval Aviators we lost that night than I ever thought I would thanks to the internet. I have reached out to the squadron as recently as October of last year to ask if they had a memorial wall of sorts. I was glad to hear they do, and it's in (or near) the ready room and today's pilots walk by it every day before they fly. Kevin and Chris are on that wall. Certainly, the least they deserve. 

 Liberty 603... you changed a lot of lives that night. You changed mine.

Looking back as I finally begin the healing process, I can see the many ripples of that night through the decades of my life since. It's like the darkness of that night in August 1985 stayed inside me. I knew it was there and wanted to keep it dark. 

The idea of light on those memories would be horrifically difficult to accept. Just thinking about it has always made me feel like we failed and that what happened was......well, something that bordered on negligent homicide. 

The orders were the right ones. The decision made that night (well above my pay grade) was the right one. 

But it still hurts. Kevin and Chris are still - and will forever be missing in action. 

Trying to save them from a rapidly sinking aircraft in the darkness of that night would have placed many other sailor's lives at risk, including mine. We didn't try. 

Chris and Kevin, I have carried you with me for almost 40 years. Every child, marriage, holiday, or celebration I have felt incredible guilt that you were not out there somewhere celebrating with your families. 

In our Navy days we lived in the moment. We learned lessons from our experiences, and we got better at what we did, but we continued to live in the moment and approach each day in a way that we could best own it. Carrying your moments in my life has been an honor. But you never asked me to do it. 

I struggle for the words today…. But I am getting close to the day when I finally have to say things out loud and let you go. I need my daily moments back. 

You didn’t know me that night, but I was there along with more than 300 others. About a hundred of us saw you, or the plane… and could do nothing more than watch. I hope you know we were willing to do whatever it took to get you out. We were not only willing we were ready. One move from inside the plane and the frenzied effort would have unleashed. No move came. Instead, we were ordered to leave the scene, and we did. We then watched as Liberty 603, still barely afloat slipped into the darkness of night. That darkness has remained within me for too long. 

Lt. Kevin Kuhnigk & Ens. Christopher Mimms, I mean no disrespect… but the time has come for me to turn on the light and let go.  I take comfort in a feeling that you’re good with that. 

 I look forward to having this conversation on the other side someday. 

Just know that I am terribly sorry we couldn’t bring you home.