Daydreaming

There I was again, like so many other times before.  The inside of a helicopter, regardless of type, is like a cocoon.  The hum of the rotors is loud at first, but becomes surprisingly mundane, beckoning you into a mental slumber.  When I find myself in this situation, or one like it in which movement and conversation is restricted, I often retreat into my mind.  Being a long way from home, I think of the same thing always – different aspects, but always the same thing.  As the rotor blast became white noise and the back-and-forth shaking began to take on a crib-like feel, I checked out mentally and went to another, better time and place.

It was hot that day, as it always is during the summer in Georgia.  I had spent the day with a fraternity brother getting ready for yet another party.  Mainly this preparation consisted of purchasing food, tapping a keg, and playing volleyball.  As the summer sun disappeared into the western sky, I went inside to clean up before the guests began to arrive.  It had been a good day and the night was sure to be good as well.  I just didn’t understand at the time that that night would be life changing.

Later, as I stood in the kitchen, a friend approached and asked if I would like to meet her friend as she pointed to the living room.  Looking across the room, I saw her for the first time.  She was strikingly beautiful.  Her long dark-red hair was pulled slightly back so as not to obstruct her face.  She held a Dixie cup in her hand (filled with Coca-Cola no doubt) and appeared to be having a good time as well.  Her sundress, a blue and yellow floral pattern if memory serves, swayed slightly as she moved gently to the sound of the music.  As she took a drink, she looked in my direction and our mutual friend motioned her over.

I didn’t hear our friend make the introductions because I was mesmerized by her eyes.  She had the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen.  Sky blue is not only a cliché description, but also not entirely accurate.  As you look into a partly cloudy, summer sky focus on the edge of the clouds – that space where the cloud and the sky seems to merge into a color that is neither blue nor white but both.  Her eyes were that color.  I didn’t really know what to say, but I knew I needed to keep her talking because I wanted to keep looking into those beautiful eyes.

I must have said something funny because she laughed and then smiled (not in a pity-like way, but as if I was actually being charming).  The smile matched her eyes.  It was radiant and genuine.  I knew then that I would be content if I could just make her smile and laugh.  I spent the rest of the night out on the porch with her, just talking.  After the typical college “what’s your major” kind of questions, we spent the rest of the evening talking about our hopes and dreams. I didn’t know it then, but her dreams would become mine and mine would become hers.

Reality sinks in as the helicopter lands and I’m back in Afghanistan rather than at a fraternity party long ago.  That meeting occurred 18 years ago today.  I married her almost two years later.  She doesn’t believe me, but I did actually have to catch my breath when I first saw her enter the church in her flowing white wedding dress.  She still looks that beautiful.  She still has the same smile and the same laugh.  And I still live to see her do both.