March 1981
The handsome young doctor stared at the lights of the New York skyline as the plane circled around to land at John F. Kennedy International Airport. After eight hours of flying over nothing but water any land would have been a welcome sight, but this was New York. This was home. Or at least it would be once again.
The loud thump as the plane’s wheels hitting ground interrupted his thoughts, but he continued to stare out the window as the plane slowed on the runway and then taxied across the airfield. His stomach churned and he began to sweat as it neared the terminal. He wanted to be home, but he didn’t want to face what awaited him.
He had cursed himself repeatedly over the past few weeks for the decision to move his family to Bahrain, unable to accept that his wife had been more excited about it than he had.
He had cursed himself for taking his family with him to the isolated village.
He had cursed himself for staying past dark at that village.
He had cursed himself for not driving more carefully on the dark narrow roadway.
He had cursed himself for surviving when his wife had not.
As he had neared the end of his tour of duty at the U.S. Navy Medical Center in Naples, the entire family was ready for a change. They had hoped that if his next assignment wasn’t stateside, it would be someplace where they could be together. He was initially upset when he was assigned to Naval Support Activity Bahrain, but when his wife had been taking lessons on the oud and was offered a grant to study Sawt, a music style popular in Bahrain, and they learned the base had a small but excellent school, they happily relocated.
Their work in Bahrain had been challenging, but the things they experienced in their off-time had been magical. They were happy there; so happy he was considering requesting an extension of his tour.
He now cursed himself for being too happy and not being more cautious and protective of his family.
He remained in his seat as the other passengers rushed to get their belongings from the overhead compartment and disembark the plane. He groaned when he stood and reached up to get his own bags from overhead, grabbed the large case from the seat beside him, and began moving slowly up the aisle, cursing his pain and unsteadiness.
“May I help, Doctor Belden?” the flight attendant offered as she rushed to him.
“No!” He jerked away from her. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. “I appreciate your kindness. I’m just...”
“I know you don’t want to damage your...it’s a tight fit between seats.” She smiled weakly. “Is it a cello? Do you play?”
“No. It’s...” Brian couldn’t say the words. It was hers and she’d cherished the instrument so much that he’d paid for a second seat so that it wouldn’t be damaged. He didn’t know much about musical instruments but she often reminded him that it was a Carcassi, built in Florence, Italy in the 18th Century.
“It’s been a long flight.”
“Too long, but not long enough,” he muttered as he turned and exited the plane.
“She knows,” he thought to himself. “How else would she know to call me doctor? And she pities me. I’m not deserving of sympathy and I certainly don’t want pity.”
His parents were waiting for him when he came through customs. It had only been a few months since he’d last seen them, but they looked as if they’d aged years. He wondered if they were thinking the same thing about him as his mother ran over and grabbed him in a tight hug.
He gritted his teeth, not wanting his mother to realize he was in pain. He then grabbed his father’s proffered hand. “Dad.” He choked on the words.
“Let’s get you home.” His father took the small canvas bag from where Brian had set it down and reached for the medical bag. “Where’s the rest of your gear?”
“That’s it.” Brian handed over the medical bag and held the much heavier cello close to his chest. “I didn’t pack many clothes. All I have, had, were my uniform and shorts and t-shirts...The rest...the rest of our things have been shipped already. He looked around, realizing his parents were alone. “Where…you didn’t bring the girls with you?” He suddenly needed to see his two young daughters. He knew it had been best to send them home earlier while he took care of all the legal matters and packed, but he needed their presence as much as he was certain they needed his.
His mother took her son’s free arm with one hand and wiped tears with the other. “They’re waiting at home. They...it’s so late, and...”
Realizing it must be well after midnight, he nodded and followed his parents. Noticing his limp, his father offered to get the car, but Brian insisted he needed to walk after being crammed into airplane seats for most of the past two days.
It was painful for him to walk through the terminal and the massive parking garage, but he welcomed the pain. Physical pain was so much easier to bear than the mental anguish of the past few weeks.
He fell asleep almost as soon as he got settled into the back of his parent’s large sedan. His mother roused him once to ask if he needed to stop for something to eat or use a restroom, but he mumbled that all he wanted was a hot shower and comfortable bed, before falling back asleep.
He was too tired to resist when his father helped him out of the car, into the house and up the stairs. His father said something about not waking his daughters but he was unable to say anything in response. Within minutes, he had showered and fallen into his childhood bed naked.
He was home.