When Life Grew Shorter

      
    The lights of the stage shown on his face like a subtly placed candle in a dark window. The light partially illuminated certain features of his face but did not overtake him and expose him to the crowd. His left eyebrow arched in the light and his left cheekbone cast a shadow onto his lower lip and chin.  The crowd was silent as he stood as a ghostly streetlight; light shining downward but not up- casting a partial profile at his feet. Anticipation filled the room as tightly as his lungs were filled with air. He exhaled and waited for the words to come to him. Another inhalation and then, slowly; painfully even, he exhaled through his nostrils and let the air escape to touch whom it chose.

       A small red-headed girl sat on the front row without knowledge of what was going on beyond the perimeter of the teddy bear in her arms.  He looked at her and all he could see was the empty wheelchair sitting next to her. He moaned under his breath, but loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.  He jolted at the sound of the echo bouncing off of the walls and back onto him.  He had broken the silence by mistake. He wasn't ready to talk, but the reality was he was expected to. He was "the guest of honor" as it read in the program. The little girl smiled at him and waved then, out of embarrassment held the teddy bear to her mouth and began chewing on its right ear. He noticed that the teddy bear's ear was nearly gone, hanging only by a few frayed threads that were bright red and not the original cream. That same ear had probably been repaired again and again as it stood the test of time and habitual chewing of a four-year-old. She did not seem to care she was too old to be chewing on things, but relaxed as she chewed away at the teddy.

    The flash of a camera brought him back to his audience and as he looked out at them he could see that everyone sat in a state of anticipation and embarrassment on his behalf. He clenched his left hand tightly around his cane and stepped further into the light. As the light drowned his face in its artificial yellow he watched the crowd shift in their seats at the sight of him. He stood silently.

The sound tech behind stage whispered out to him. "Sir, is your microphone still working?"

    The little girl had been scooped up onto a woman's lap and she rested her head against the lady's breasts as she chewed on the teddy bear's ear. The woman nodded at him and smiled as she gave him a thumbs up then, ran her fingers through the little girl's hair. At the sight of them both he found the words deep within himself- like an excavation of something ancient and extravagant had been discovered. He wanted to treat the words with fragile care and not let them fall the floor broken and unappreciated. He squinted beneath the warm light and struggled with the formation of the words in his mouth before he made them audible.

"My daughter" he began "has kept the teddy bear I sent to her on her second birthday."

The words came out sluggish and nearly misformed. The injury had damaged the left side of his face- forcing him to talk primary out of the right side of his mouth and enunciate carefully. He sounded similar to someone with Cerebral Palsy. He clinched his cane tighter.

The crowd squinted and sat up straight in their seats as if their demeanor would help them concentrate and understand him better. Most people seemed to be focusing on the medals on his uniform and the camouflage pattern.

"She sent me a homemade thank you card and kissed the camera every time that I would talk to her and my wife on Skype."

The rhythm of his speech became more fluid as he looked down at his daughter sitting on his wife's lap- his empty wheel chair next to them.

"When I fought for my country, I thought of her and that teddy bear.  I wondered how worn it would be when I saw it again and how much taller my daughter would be. I would lay on my cot at night and wonder if that stuffed bear would have been sold in a yard sale and replaced by something better.  I wondered if my country would have forgotten me by the time I returned."

The little girl shifted on her mom's lap and looked at her dad as he stood before soldiers and their families.

"Time seemed to stand still over there. We were on mission every day and nothing seemed to change except for more boys losing their lives and hospitals filling up with more that were injured. Skype couldn't bridge the gap between a war zone and the life my family was still living without me. The day I got injured, I laid there somewhere between this earth and my last breath. The world went quiet and life seemed to grow shorter with every breath and the adrenaline that was pumping to keep me alert. I spent over a year in the hospital fighting for my life and standing the test of time with multiple surgeries, rehabilitation and therapy."

His speech began to slur badly and he paused to focus again on what he was saying.

"I got home and the teddy bear had endured a lot of stains, rough play and love from my daughter.  It showed me that life had gone on while I was gone, but that I was always in her arms even if it was through a cheap teddy bear.  This Christmas, I welcome you all home for good. I hope that you each find that although you have not been present in your families day-to-day lives that you've never gone unmissed.  May you  notice your faded photo that your wife has slept with under her pillow. May you find little notes that your daughter has left around the house for you. I hope you can appreciate the model tank that your son built for you while you were gone. This Christmas is a Christmas to remember because you're home among the smells, traditions and love that the holidays bring. When life grew shorter, my will to live grew stronger. Thank God for bringing you back home safely. Merry Christmas."

The crowd stood and applause filled every empty space of the arena. Soldiers stood at attention as "I'll Be Home For Christmas" came over the sound system. With assistance, he made his way down to his wheel chair and sat down- allowing the physical pain to melt into the metal frame and rubber wheels. His daughter climbed on his lap and handed him the teddy bear ear that had fallen off yet again. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, "I think it's time for daddy to buy you a new teddy bear."