A Journey Home

Charles's eyes burst open as the sound of distant commotion woke him from a heavy sleep. His body rested uncomfortably on the cold, wet ground against a pile of rock. Panic and confusion set in as he tried to understand his surroundings and what had happened. The events of an unwinnable battle flashed through his mind as he attempted to move his wounded body to a more secure spot. There was no knowledge of how long Charles had been alone, where the rest of his unit was, or how many American casualties had perished. He was severely injured, dehydrated, and behind enemy lines, with no food or form of communication.

2000 had brought many highs for Charles and his wife, Laura. They celebrated their thirty-first birthdays in the Tennessee mountains and capped the year off with a tenth wedding anniversary on New Year's Eve. 2001, on the other hand, wasn't so kind. Recently promoted United States Army Special Forces Officer, Charles Jones, watched with the world as his fairytale life received a dose of reality when the World Trade Center fell on September 11, 2001, throwing the country into a war with a faceless enemy.

The events of 9/11 had set Charles on a crash course to his current state, but they were the furthest thing from his mind. In catching his breath, after positioning himself in between brush to his right and left, and the side of the Tora Bora mountain to his back, Charles began to try to put the pieces of the reality that surrounded him together. Officer Jones and his unit were assigned to a Special Reconnaissance Mission. Two hours into the mission, Charles and his men were flanked on both sides, sending them into a fight for their lives.

Though the United States' involvement in the mountain region of Afghanistan was still reasonably fresh, during the early weeks of 2004, brought many heart-stopping moments. Whatever the mission, the intelligence seemed to be wrong more than right, forcing the brass to make many last-second, life-altering decisions. Charles was a soldier men would follow. He was someone who seemed to know exactly what to do when all hell broke loose around him. Calm, collected, and focused.

As the sun began to part behind the unnerving Afgain' mountains, Officer Jones and his men wrapped up their last objective and packed their equipment, hoping to make the hike back to their safe zone with ease. With blind spots galore, untrustable locals, and a rout none were familiar with, every turn, snap of a stick, or shot fired in the distance sent the anxiety of the moment through the cloudless sky above them.

With a few miles between themselves and certain danger, the unit stopped for a breath. The men threw their gear to the side, finding a solid surface to lay against and a swig of water to cool down the sweat. Charles opened the last snack he packed, before reaching in his shirt pocket, to pull out a group of folded papers and a photograph. He always used every waking second that he wasn't focused, on missing, thinking about, or talking to his family back home. In staring through the weathered photo, Charles realized it had been a few days, nearly a week since he heard his wife's calm voice, daughter's contagious laugh, and son's basketball stat-line, but Laura had prepared her husband for these moments of loneliness.

Behind the wrinkled photo, a notebook paper, filled to the brim with words on each side, waited patiently to be read. The words that painted both pages had helped Charles through the plane ride away from his family, a near-miss training accident, and his first few close combat experiences. A map, timeline, and chronological code to the years that waited for his arrival home brought a tear to his eye. His wife of 13 years stayed up nights on end when she learned of his deployment. The goal was to give him the dates he had to look forward to over the next few years. Birthdays, anniversaries, MLB Opening Day, and the first day of school each year all held a different, special meaning and memory in Charles' heart. Still, as he fixated on February 1, 2004, silence filled the air.

Jokes from his brothers, shots from unknown distances away, and the intensity of what may lie ahead fell quiet. It was as if Charles' ability to concentrate on anything else other than his mud-stained palm running back-and-forth across the scribbled "2/1/04" left his body until the train whistle of reality rang in the form of bullets flying east-to-west, from an unknown adversary.

Before Charles could move an inch, he was taking fire. With one shot to his shoulder and another to his leg, Officer Jones was left pulling himself across the rugged ground, looking for any cover possible. A shot here, scream there, and yell for help everywhere. He was left helpless, tying a knot around his wounds, heart beating out of his chest, and vision fading. Charles' energy left his battered body faster than the bullets flying past. He couldn't help his brothers. There was no assisting with the wounded or getting himself out of harm's way. His mind faded to nothingness and body into a flaccid state. Whether Charles lived or died was out of his hands.

Charles had only been awake a few hours when nightfall hit. The skies over Afghanistan were as clear as the Weddell Sea, lit by a hopeless, full moon, but Charles struggled to keep the light and fire inside, alive. Alone, cold and confused. Staved, dehydrated and angry. He struggled to understand why he was alone. His last memory was crowded with people. Those he had battled with, grown beside, and fought next to were all around him, but now? Nothing.

How could the most significant fighting force the world has ever known leave one of their own behind enemy lines? With zero doubt in his occupation, a once hopeful man was falling in-and-out of consciousness, with only negative thoughts flashing through his mind. A polaroid picture with nothing to shake the fuzziness away. There was no one there to save the man who gave his all to everyone, but the universe was far from done with him.

"What falls on the last day of December every year?" A voice asked, speeding through Charles' mind.

"Laura?" Charles asked, struggling to put his words together. "Is that you? I can't see you; I can't see anything!"

"You don't need to see me to answer the question, silly," Laura replied with a calm voice. "I was sent here to help you remember, but I can't if you don't answer the question."

"Sent by who?" Charles said with confusion.

"You know who, the reason you're still fighting," Laura said sternly. "He's here, always is, and we'd both love if you would answer the question. What falls on the last day of December?"

"A reminder of two of the greatest days of my life," Charles replied with a cough and emotion in his voice."

It was New Year's Eve, 1989, and a young mullet sporting Charles Jones and friends experienced a night under the neon lights of Nashville. Every honky tonk and dive bar had their money, while every woman ignored their pick-up lines. Country music, whiskey, and any distraction he could find. Charles was nineteen, without a clue in the world what he wanted to do with his life. Each day was spent helping his pops with the family construction business, and night drowning the doubt of a passing life away. The expectation was to party every waking minute in Music City, but as he stared through the bottom of an empty glass, two chance interactions changed the direction of his life forever.

"What the hell are you looking for in there?" A man said as he pulled out the weathered stool beside Charles.

"Answers," Charles said with a smirk.

"About what?" The man asked with a stare.

"Myself," Charles replied as he looked up. "What I'm supposed to be doing, where I'm supposed to be. My purpose, you know?"

"You're not going to find those answers here," the man said as he took a sip from his beer. "What do you spend your days doing?"

"Just construction work with my old man," Charles said.

"What about your nights?" The man asked.

"You're looking at it," Charles replied as he looked across the bar, catching a glimpse of a woman that immediately made things make sense.

"Here's my card; my name is Mike Jefferson, and I am a recruiter for the Army," Mike said, handing Charles his card.

"Thanks," Charles said, never looking Mike in the eyes, as he stood up and began to walk towards the woman that would eventually become his wife.

"Son, son!" Mike said, grabbing Charles by the arm. "Call the number on the back Monday, and you'll find what you're looking for."

Charles's life changed with two conversations. An inspiring exchange with an Army recruiter and a stutter-filled talk with the future love of his life. The following day, January 1, 1990, everything was different, and a man searching for his purpose and meaning never looked back. Every morning now gave him reason to wake up. His coffee was sweeter, his workout a little more robust, and the alarm clock less dreadful. During the day, he was training to protect the ideals he cherished, and at night, Charles loved the woman he adored.

A year to the date of their first interaction, Laura and Charles met at the altar, with their family and friends watching, and said those sacred words. After a short honeymoon in Nashville, they returned home to their small Tennessee home and began a life that most only dream to have.

With Laura, everything made sense. The impossible was possible, the hopeless turned hopeful, and every moment meant more than the last. Each day meant something more significant than the bottom of a bottle or track from a jukebox. She was the sunlight on a good day and rainbow on a difficult day. Laura's blue eyes moved like the waves of the Atlantic, with desire at every glance. Her touch was like a room full of the smoothest silk sheets, and the comfort of her presence made the worries that used to fill Charles's mind disappear into the starry sky he finally stopped to notice.

Dates on the calendar that Charles used to dread, he now welcomed. Holidays, birthdays, or deadlines brought a sense of hope instead of anguish. Every single time the sun rose, there was an opportunity. Each time he met her at the coffee pot with the sun shining through their small kitchen window, there was possibility, and none of what they were building was taken for granted. After two magical years where each night felt like their honeymoon, Laura and Charles decided it was time to try and expand their family.

On September 17, 1992, a very sleepy and overjoyed mom and dad welcomed a sweet baby girl to the world. Katrina Marie added another wave of feelings that Charles had never experienced before. The intuitive sense of unconditional love, where there was absolutely nothing that little girl could do that would break their bond, came the very moment he heard her cry. Fear and panic raced through his mind, but in a different sense. From the moment he held her tiny body in his hands and looked into her eyes, which were a replica of her mama, all Charles could think about was protecting her soul and never leaving her side.

"What do you remember about the week we brought Katrina home?" Laura asked, startling Charles once again with her words.

"I don't understand why I can't see you," Charles replied, with weakness in his voice.

"Charles, you're not meant to," Laura uttered. "Come on, honey, I want to hear what you remember!"

"I remember every single thing," Charles said as his voice began to break with emotion. "I'll never forget how light I slept. Every move she made, every sound outside, if the dog barked, I jumped out of bed."

"You always woke up with her," Laura said quietly.

"She brought a whole new feeling of love," Charles replied. "I loved you more, I loved life more, I loved my job more, everything meant more. Every time she grabbed my finger with those small hands of hers, I knew I had to give my all to everything I was doing, a whole new level. I could no longer just be a husband; I had to be the best husband, I could no longer be just a soldier, I had to be the best man in my unit. I had to leave something for her to be proud of one day."

"You've always made me proud, daddy," Katrina said, in between tears.

"Katrina?" Charles asked as his mind scrambled. "I can't see you either!"

"It's okay," Katrina said calmly. "I can see you. Mommy and I are safe now, and I want you to know that I was proud to have you as my dad as soon as I could understand. There wasn't a day that passed that I didn't feel safe, loved, or cared for. You always made me feel like I could do anything or be anything, that the world was at my fingertips."

"I wish I could give you a hug right now," Charles mumbled.

"You will one day," Katrina replied. "One day, we'll all be back together."

September 17, December 31, and MLB Opening Day became the biggest of dates on a calendar filled with meaningful moments. Baseball had always been an outlet for a confused teenage Charles to find a purpose. What was happening at home, school, or in his own head didn't matter anymore once the first pitch was thrown. Growing up, his mother would let him stay home on Opening Day to watch the Atlanta Braves take the field for the first time, as long as he kept his grades up. Even after Laura and Katrina entered his life, Opening Day was spent in front of the TV or at the Ball Park.

"Do you remember what happened on April 26, 1995?" Laura asked

"The Braves started their path to a third World Series ring," Charles said with a giggle and cough.

"That was the last thing on your mind that day," Laura said with a laugh.

Charles Jones Jr., or Charlie, as he quickly became known as, came into the world with his dad's favorite pastime playing in the background. For the first time since he was a boy, Charles's eyes weren't fixated on the television behind him, but instead on the woman of his dreams, the daughter that changed his life, and a newborn son that completed it. Life seemed as if it could get better. Each year brought something new to smile about, be grateful for, and cherish every evening when the sun faded.

Laura and Charles' little family was complete. A daughter, son, two German Sheppards, and a three-bedroom house on the edge of town. Laura's career was in full swing, and the Army was constantly looking for new ways to let Charles' leadership skills shine. This time around, bringing a new baby home was different for dad. The nervousness and anxiety that came with the responsibility of having Katrina wasn't there, only the excitement of what tomorrow could hold. Baseball games, project cars, first dates, and eventually his first beer. Charlie presented Charles with a whole new range of emotions, but life's challenges quickly put things into perspective.

As Charlie approached his fourth birthday, signs of a rare muscle disease became prominent. Struggling to sit up on his own, crawl, or walk, began to scare his parents. Doctor appointments confirmed their anxieties, and Charles started questioning things for the first time in a decade. How could this happen? What did they do to make the universe do this? What about his childhood or future? There wasn't a question Charles didn't contemplate in his head over the first few months after his son's diagnosis. Instead of becoming closer to his family, he drifted to a lawn chair next to an old fire pit in their backyard, nights on end.

"Charlie wasn't so simple, was he?" Laura asked.

"He was; we just didn't know how to see it yet," Charles replied. "That was the only time where I felt like a bad father."

"You were just confused," Laura said with confidence in her voice. "We all were."

"Maybe, but you didn't seem to budge a bit," Charles said, fighting back the weakness in his voice. "The first night we met, you saved my life, you saved me again when I was worried about becoming a father, then once more when I was concerned if I was strong enough to remain one."

"There was never a question for me," Laura conveyed. "I've always believed in you. I believed in you finding your purpose, being my husband and a father to our kids. You just need a little encouragement to see that in yourself. The night I realized I loved you, that's what I signed up for; to never give up on you or us."

Though it took a little longer than other speed bumps, Laura and Charles made it through and started to create a childhood for their son. Books, classes, and many emotional conversations followed, but the focus had turned from self-pity to being there for Charlie. Baseball dreams turned into Wheelchair Basketball aspirations, and project cars quickly became an extensive collection of crayon marked designs that would make any car guy jealous. Even at an early age, Charlie's wisdom and intelligence were evident. He could solve problems, figure out the puzzle to any task, and work towards a solution. A planner like his mother, fighter like his father, and the most supportive older sister to fill in the gaps.

Charlie's life wasn't over, it was just beginning, and when the family found out his superhero father was getting deployed to a combat zone in Afghanistan, he made it his mission to help his mother plan the reunion. During the handful of years Charlie had been battling getting used to life in a chair, he lived appointment-to-appointment, and though it was different than the battle his dad was prepping for, he could relate.

"What does February 1, 2004, mean to you?" Laura asked.

"Home," Charles said, barely being able to speak.

"What about home?" Laura replied with building emotion.

"That's when you predicted I would be home," he said, clenching his jaw.

"Me?" Laura expressed with surprise.

"Yes, you," Charles conveyed with frustration. "You put the whole timeline together of events I could look forward to. Our anniversary, birthdays, Opening Day, all of it."

"Sweetie," Laura said with a calmness in her voice. "Those were my ideas, yes, but Charlie had the idea of giving it a date for you to come home. He always looked forward to the play dates we would schedule for him the week after a big appointment. Those helped him be strong, and he wanted to do the same for you."

Little did Charlie know that everyone around him had gained strength because of him. With every battle he won, task completed, and obstacle overcame, his family added another layer to their armor shield. The Jones family wasn't unbreakable, and the impossible had given them a few scars when reality set in, but they always pulled through as a unit. Unfortunately, as we pass through life's journey, our unit temporarily becomes smaller, as loved ones walk the golden path to their forever home, awaiting the moment those still finding their way come home too.

"Charles, my sweet, sweet husband, you have to keep fighting," Laura said powerfully.

"I just want to see you, both of you," Charlie said with a sob. "I want to kiss your lips, hold Trina tight, and never look back again."

"I know you do, we want that too, but Charlie needs you," Laura replied. "We have to go home, but we'll wait for you as long as it takes. You have to trust me. Charlie needs your strength, without us there. My two strong boys need each other."

"Laura, please don't go," Charles said with tears streaming down his face. "I can't do this without you."

"You'll never be alone," Laura conveyed. "We will always be right there with you, Katrina and I, looking over you and Charlie, forever. I promise you, you are more than strong enough. Whenever you feel like you aren't, hold your hand against Charlie's chest, his heartbeat is me there with you. Sit on the porch, the birds chirping are Katrina's laugh, the sunset is our never-ending love, and the gust of the wind is a reminder of us walking right beside you."

"I love you," Charles said with rich emotion. "I love you both so much."

"We love you, too," Laura and Katrina replied calmly.

Charles opened his eyes with the last few minutes of the Tennessee sun resting against an open window and a small Carolina Wren playing a calming soundtrack. Though he had many questions, there was no anxiety or rush to answer them. He took the time to enjoy the sun's glare, birds' presence, and the comfort of a slight breeze. There was no one in the room with him, but he never felt lonely for reasons that can't be explained. Only a few minutes passed before a nurse caught a glimpse of Charles' curious green eyes.

"Well, hello, Mr. Jones," the nurse said softly. "My name is Emily."

"Hi, Emily," Charles said quietly. "How long have I been out?"

"Quite a while; it's February 1st," Emily uttered as she stood beside Charles' bed with expressive eyes. "You arrived here a week ago."

"February 1st," Charles said softly as he began to cry. "Can I see my family?"

"Mr. Jones, there was an accident," Emily conveyed as tears streamed down her face. "Your son is resting comfortably down the hall. I'm sure he can't wait to see his superhero dad."

"What about my wife and daughter?" Charles asked as he stared through Emily.

"Sir, they didn't make it," Emily said through her sob, reaching for Charles' hand.

"Right," Charles said after a long pause, leading to a bright smile. "They're Home now."