Friday, December 3, 2010

Lily

As Captain Ryan Campbell stepped into the C-17, he felt like he was in a dream. He could hardly believe that he was alive, that he had survived four years at war and that he was finally going home. The pain and weariness that had become so habitual that he barely noticed anymore, were gone. Now he felt relief. He felt hope. Pressing against each other in the small aircraft cabin, his men were talking about looking forward to hamburgers and cheese fries. About warm beds and cold beer. But Ryan knew what he was looking forward to the most. In a few short hours, he would be with Lily. Beautiful, beautiful Lily – the love of his life, the apple of his eye – Lily.

He still remembered vividly the day he had seen her for the first time. He even remembered the date - April 15 2002. The moment their eyes had met, he had known he was hooked. His first words to her, “Hi! I’m Ryan”, had come out in an awed whisper, barely audible. It had seemed to him that everything that had happened in his life up to that point, had been so that it would bring him to that instant – that instant when he first saw her radiant face. As the powerful memory surged through him, he was surprised by how many tiny details he had noticed about her on that day. He remembered noticing her eyes – her big, warm, beautiful brown eyes with little flecks of green that added mischief and charm. He remembered looking at the delicate flap in her earlobe and wanting nothing more than to kiss it. He remembered her soft, black hair and the heady rush he had felt when he had first inhaled its wonderful fragrance.

That was almost six years ago, a year and a half before he had been deployed to Afghanistan. So much had happened since then. He wondered if she had changed. Was her favorite color still blue? Did she still like to listen to the same song when she awoke in the morning? Did she still talk in her sleep? Weeks before he had had to leave, he would stay up all night just to watch her sleep – so that he could memorize her peaceful, content face. He wondered if she would even recognize him now. He knew he would. He would know that smile anywhere. But all they had had of each other for four years were memories and photographs from the months that they had spent together. He had one of those photographs with him today. It was from the first time they had gone to the beach together. They had spent the entire day laughing and singing and ,every now and then, daring to wet their feet in the ice-cold water. In that photo, her hair was glistening with the orange glow of the setting sun and the joy and magic of the entire day were frozen in her happy smile. He tightly gripped the photo in his palm as he waited for the aircraft to land.

In the few letters that he had been allowed to mail from Afghanistan, he had never known what to write. Or rather, he had never been able to find the words to express everything he felt. No words seemed good enough to tell her how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how he longed to just feel her in his arms again. How could he tell her that she was the reason he stayed alive? That the distant hope of holding her hand again was what helped him through the terrifying reality that faced him every day. That during times when it felt like the very air he breathed reeked of death, remembering the sweet scent of her shampoo was what comforted him. That in those hopeless moments when he had been convinced that he would not survive, that his life would end in that hell-hole, the only thing that kept him going was the memory of the delight on her face as she stood at the door watching his car pull up.

“This is it!”, said Lieutenant Tommy Farlow as he helped Ryan out of the aircraft. Ryan could hear the other planes landing too. It was, as it is said, a hero’s welcome. There were banners everywhere proclaiming pride and love and prayers. An officer walked up to the aircraft and announced that there would be a ceremony in their honor later that day. But all Ryan had eyes or ears for was Lily. He scanned the crowd in eager anticipation. When he couldn’t find her, a wave of apprehension swept over him. Would she even be there? He had not been able to call before leaving but he had been assured that she would be informed. Even if she was there, would she love him the same way she did four years ago? Would she be awkward, seeing him after all these years? Would she be afraid? Would things ever be the same between them? Would he ever be able to make up for the time they had lost? And then he saw her. She was searching for him too. He waved frantically to catch her attention. As their eyes met, a smile of recognition flashed on her face and she started walking toward him. She looked like an angel, in a periwinkle dress with a matching flower in her hair. “What will I say to her?”, he thought. “What can I say that will tell her how sorry I am to have missed all those years? What could I possibly say that would tell her how much I have been looking forward to this moment? “. She was running now. She was getting closer. He could not move. He just stood there, arms outstretched. There were tears in his eyes as he knelt to the ground, overwhelmed. She ran into his arms with surprising force. All his doubts seemed insignificant, and his fears vanished into nothingness, when she whispered in his ear, “Welcome home, Daddy”.