PART 15 – I Had Spent Years Explaining My Absence to My Family, Never Imagining That One Christmas Night Would Explain Everything Without Me Saying a Word

There was something I had never told my father.

I had missed many family occasions because of the Army.

But I had never stopped wanting to be part of them.

That was the part he seemed unable to understand.

Every time I couldn't attend something, I tried to make up for it later.

I called.

I sent messages.

I asked about birthdays and anniversaries.

I remembered the small things.

Sometimes I managed to visit.

Sometimes I couldn't.

I had learned to accept that military life did not always allow me to choose where I spent important days.

But I had never considered those days unimportant.

Christmas had always meant something to me.

Even when I was far away, I remembered the family traditions.

I remembered the dining room.

I remembered the conversations that went on long after dinner.

I remembered my father being pleased when everyone gathered.

That was why I had booked the flight.

I hadn't been trying to make a statement.

I hadn't wanted to discuss my deployments.

I hadn't planned to compare my career with Jason's promotion.

I simply wanted to come home.

Instead, my father had turned my work into a reason to keep me away.

I was still trying to understand that.

I thought about calling him.

I even opened his contact information once.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

I could have asked whether dinner had gone well.

I could have wished him a happy Christmas.

I could have pretended the phone conversation three nights earlier hadn't happened.

But I didn't.

I put the phone down.

There was no point pretending that I hadn't been hurt.

I wasn't angry enough to start an argument.

I was simply tired of making every difficult conversation easier for him.

Later, Alvarez passed by.

She asked whether I had managed to rest.

"A little."

She nodded.

Then she mentioned the news again.

"They're showing more of the rescue now."

I looked up.

"Still?"

"Apparently, the footage is being picked up for a bigger report."

I was surprised.

"Really?"

She nodded.

I looked back at the work in front of me.

I didn't know what to say.

It was strange to think that something which had happened only hours earlier was already reaching people far beyond Colorado.

I imagined viewers watching the bus being overturned.

I imagined them seeing the emergency crews working in the snow.

Perhaps they would understand how dangerous the tanker had been.

Perhaps they would appreciate the work of everyone involved.

I didn't think much beyond that.

I certainly didn't imagine my father watching.

I didn't imagine Jason sitting beside him.

And I didn't imagine the guests recognizing the soldier whose career had supposedly been too important to mention at Christmas dinner.

Those thoughts never crossed my mind.

I had no reason to connect the two parts of my life.

My family was at home.

I was at the base.

The rescue had happened on the highway.

They seemed like separate things.

I was wrong about that.

But I wouldn't understand it until later.

For now, I continued working.

The holiday was moving forward.

The storm was becoming a memory.

And the footage from mile marker 214 was traveling farther than I could have imagined.

Click here to continue reading: PART 16: I Never Expected My Father to See the Rescue, Because I Had No Idea the Evening News Was About to Put My Name in Front of Him