When I first returned to my new-old company, I reconnected with wonderful people like Tom, Amrit, Barbara, and Lisa. Lisa is employed by a food service company that my new-old company employs. Anyway, she and I don’t technically work together; however, we do spend a lot of time bumping into each other either in the kitchen when she is refilling the refrigerator with Fresca or in the cafeteria when I go to buy my salad from the abfab salad bar.
The week I arrived back, she filled me in on all the company gossip; if there’s anything going on, Lisa always knows it first. Anyway, somehow the conversation turned to her stepdaughter; Lisa told me that her stepdaughter, at age 39, decided to join the Army and become an MP. She was currently stationed at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan.
I thought her stepdaughter’s story was pretty phenomenal, and then I said, “Hey, I know someone who is a Lieutenant Colonel of an MP outfit there. We should try and see if we can get them to meet.” Lisa told me her stepdaughter’s surname, and I told her my friend’s name. Lisa was going to tell her stepdaughter my friend’s name, and I was going to tell my friend Lisa’s stepdaughter’s name; the Bagram Plan was in motion or so we thought.
Lisa doesn’t have a computer at home. I know that in this day and age it seems crazy; however, at the same time, it’s reassuring that some people can still survive without one. Lisa told me that she had to go to the library that week to use the computer there to set up an email account in order to send her stepdaughter email; she would mention my friend’s name in her email.
I went home and gave my friend Lisa’s stepdaughter’s name. I was then asked what unit she was in. So, when I saw Lisa a few days later I asked, “What unit is she in?”
Lisa said she’d have to check. She also said that she heard from her stepdaughter; however, her stepdaughter had no reaction to the mention of my friend. A few more days passed, and Lisa gave me her stepdaughter’s unit number, which I relayed to my friend.
A week or two passed. Lisa’s stepdaughter continued to send emails, but she didn’t mention any interest in meeting my friend. My friend was happily married; so, we weren't trying to make a love connection just a connection.
As the days and weeks passed, making this connection seemed to become that much more important to us. It was less about networking and more about giving Lisa’s stepdaughter a seasoned ally in a dangerous place. I, liking Lisa and her stepdaughter (without even knowing her), felt that my friend, being career army, might look out for her a bit and lessen the worry at home.
Lisa finally came by my office one morning on her way to stock the refrigerator with Fresca. She was holding a piece of white paper in her hand. Our receptionist, Barbara, printed out Lisa's emails for her, which I thought was really sweet.
She handed me the paper and said, “Read this.” I read the email; apparently, her stepdaughter was confused thinking that I wanted her to find my friend. Lisa and I had a good laugh; after all our efforts, our Bagram Plan had stalled a bit on the Afghanistan end.
Meanwhile, I heard my friend was going to try and find her. Apparently, Bagram is quite large, and Lisa’s stepdaughter was quite literally a needle in a huge khaki haystack. Three weeks ago, I was buying my salad when Lisa said, “Someone at a FOB was injured, so my stepdaughter is going to take his place at the FOB.” A FOB is a Forward Operating Base, and it’s usually the most dangerous place there is.
Lisa looked distraught. I sighed and touched her arm, because there was no way to verbally respond to news like this. Lisa said, “They’re sending a Special Forces guy with her. She’ll only be there for a few weeks.”
Two weeks passed. Lisa came by my office on Monday morning. She handed me a piece of white paper.
I read the email; Lisa’s stepdaughter was still at the FOB. Another FOB had been attacked, and she was at the infirmary giving blood. Three soldiers had been hit by an IED; her stepdaughter went on to say that one had lost a hand, another’s face was “messed up,” and the last was having both legs amputated. (What were we fighting for again?!)
Her stepdaughter said she was leaving the FOB soon. After rereading the descriptions of the wounded soldiers, I wanted to cry. Lisa looked upset and said, “When I showed this to her Dad, he started to cry. He’s so worried about her.”
This morning, Lisa came by. She was beaming. She handed me a piece of white paper.
I read the email. Her stepdaughter was back at Bagram. I looked up at Lisa and said, “Thank, goodness!”
Then I read on…
Yep, I am back. I had a visitor tonight, Jean’s friend. He was on his way to the terminal for a flight and he came in. I had received a note and his business card the other day and did email him. He is really nice and told me that I can stop by his office anytime. He also said he would drop in from time to time to make sure all was going good. It was really nice to meet him and nice to have someone of his rank checking in on me!
All is well!
Chat with you soon,
Love and miss you.
I shouted, “Oh, my God! We did it!” and Lisa and I high-fived eachother on the spot. Lisa laughed and said, “Yeah, finally!” Then Lisa said, “I can’t wait to show this to my husband. It’ll make him feel so much better.”
Today was one of those days when the unexpected part of life is wonderful. Two people in Afghanistan brought Lisa and I closer; Lisa and I brought two people in Afghanistan closer. My friend and Lisa's stepdaughter were two strangers yesterday when all along they shared two loved ones, thousands of miles away, that they never knew about. And, I ask you, how frickin’ cool is that?! ♥
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