by Tod Strickland Tonight I am in a mental space in which I never really imagined finding myself. Throughout my life I have prepared for a thousand different things, some easier than others, some more difficult. Between being a professional soldier on one hand, an amateur climber on another, and all the differing aspects of my personal life I have frequently had to think about how I would react to given situations, but right now I find myself at a bit of a loss. My youngest daughter Naomi has just announced that she is engaged.
Truth be told, I have had plenty of time to see this one coming, but for whatever reason, it was never something that occurred to me. When I first met her mother, my wife Zoë, Naomi and her sister Micah were part of the package. Admittedly, she was seven at the time and marriage was not an action that I had cause to readily anticipate. In fact, I hadn’t anticipated that her mom and I would marry, but two years later we were standing on Zoë’s parents’ front porch doing just that.
I still have a picture of that day. Zoë in her wedding dress, me in an olive-coloured suit, with a striking blond teenager on one side of us, and blond-haired little girl in a floral print dress on the other. After we had said “I do” in front of our friends and family, our newly minted family went out for dessert at a little café. It was shortly after that moment I realized I had just assumed all of the responsibilities of fatherhood. Looking back, I have to admit that I really didn’t prepare for that moment particularly well either. In short order we were moved to Edmonton, where we would spend the next 11 years together, and Naomi would grow from a precocious nine-year-old know-it-all, into a lovely young woman.
The day Zoë and I left for Toronto and a new posting in Eastern Canada so that I could attend staff college, we left both girls behind. The offer had been made for them to come with us to a new city, but it wasn’t particularly appealing for either of them. They had both grown to the point where they had lives of their own and, I think, had developed an affection for Edmonton. While we were driving steadily eastward, my wife’s phone beeped with a noise that let us know a text had come in, it was from Naomi. While playing paintball with some friends she had tripped in a gopher hole and shattered her ankle. She was fine, but in the hospital and about to undergo surgery. Looking at my now teary wife, I asked if we should go back, but there was little we could actually do aside from offer moral support and she decided that we should keep heading to our new home. Further updates followed, with pictures of what appeared to be a vicious scar, a smiling, slightly stoned young woman and every indication that she was fine.
Today, several years further on, I got an email from Naomi. Most of the time she sends letters, handwritten on specially chosen stationery; I look forward to these updates on how she and her boyfriend John are doing. Whether it is school, work or just day-to-day life, she has a knack for telling what is going on in the everyday moments. The subject line said “So. Um. I’ve got some news.” I had just returned from the gym and fired up my computer to see if there was anything other than spam coming my way. When I read the subject my mind quickly ran through the possibilities—pregnancy, breakup, new job, et cetera. It is sort of funny that I didn’t think of marriage as an option.
John and Naomi have been together for a few years now, and the possibility of marriage had come up in a couple of conversations. I remember on one visit back to Edmonton the subject of whether a woman should take her husband’s last name had led to a heated discussion between our two daughters. Just before I left for this tour in Afghanistan Naomi had been quite specific in mentioning that John wanted to talk to me in person about something. This had never occurred owing to us being in Ottawa and her and John being out west. When I deployed without “the conversation” happening, the idea basically disappeared into the back of my mind to be replaced with the myriad responsibilities that I have to deal with here. I opened the email.
There to greet me was a picture of a ring on a finger, and the words of an obviously joyful woman. Clearly excited and bubbly, she had emailed it to both my work and personal addresses and in 16 brief words had spelled out that her life was about to take a change. I found the phrase “I totally said yes” to be funny, cute and completely honest. I immediately called Zoë (it was 3 am in Ottawa) to share the moment.
Sitting here in Kandahar I have a thousand thoughts running through my mind, and for the first time in quite a while, none of them concern Afghanistan, the Taliban or the work that has to be done. Instead, I am a little confused, happy, content, missing home and wishing I was about 10,000 kilometres to the west and able to hug two people in love.
Lieutenant-Colonel Tod Strickland is Assistant Chief of Staff for Task Force 5-10, and member of the Princess Patricia Canadian Light Infantry, serving in Kandahar, Afghanistan.
