He stared into darkness of his morning coffee cup as she
hurriedly prepared herself for work in silence. He stared up to take a quick
glance at her face, as she passed by him without saying a word, the silence was
deafening. Grabbing her purse from the shelf and the rattle of the keys in her
hand, she walked out of their home turning, and locking the door to his
self-imposed prison. For a moment, he sat in the dull light of the table lamp
and decided to load his coffee cup once again. Walking into the kitchen,
opening the cabinet door, and removing his favorite pain reliever. Pouring the
contents into his coffee, he found the bottom of the brown plastic bottle and
tossed it into the trash on top of the other three bottles of the week. Turning
the cup up and savoring the flavor of the coffee and cheap whiskey. He wandered
through his house, staring out the window into nothing and remembering the
battles long past. Walking down the hallway where his military past hung in
glory, certificates, pictures, medals, and plaques of service to his unit and
our country. Taking another swallow of his wicked brew, the dullness inside his
body increased, as the pain began to fade. He continued into the
cluttered bedroom and opened his closet door and looked at the strips on the
sleeve of his uniform. Reaching in, grabbing the hanger and holding it up to
stare at his former glory. Carrying it over to the bed, laying it over the wrinkled
covers as he stared down upon the uniform that had long ago, shrank inside the
closet. Taking another swallow, he found the bottom of his coffee cup, and now
it was time to take his journey. He reached down and opened the drawer to the
nightstand where his transportation to Valhalla awaited him. Its polished body sparkled, it was the chariot that would carry him on a final journey he had
long anticipated and never spoken a word of to anyone. He walked back into the bathroom and stared
into the mirror at eyes of his captor, closed his eyes and started down the long dark
hallway, raising his chariot to his head, and with the crack of a whip, he
opened the door to Valhalla.
Everyday, an average of 22 veterans walk down a darkened
hallway and open a door to Valhalla. Their loved ones and family will have no
idea of their planned journey. The signs are often there, alienation, reserved
and self-medication. If you are a veteran or the family of a veteran, please
call 800-273-8255 and press 1 when answered. A trained responder will
answer your call. Valhalla waits for all our warriors, help us help them put
off the journey.
