Odd-Hour Phone Calls

It was as if the phone was to my ear before my brain could even process what happened. Yet, my brain had already rapidly contemplated the disaster that must be awaiting such an odd-hour phone call.  While the call was justified, it afforded me a rare opportunity, to return to my slumber. The impact of these calls is apparent in my immediate and unconscious response. My brain sorted through the ever-growing reasons for such calls. Who was hurt? Who had died? What emergency needed my immediate attention? What would I need? Who would I need to notify? What could I delegate and to whom? 

That same day, someone mentioned me having “this place” in our family, something mentioned often in our family conversations. It is a place where most crumble. It is this place where stress and emotion run high. It is this place of immense burden. It is this place I do not hate or love. It is this place where I become whatever I must. I become the helper, the dictator, the hated, the loved, the resented…  I become what is needed for others. In this place, I become the first call. It is this place where I bear the burdens of others, for a moment or a lifetime. It is a place I wish I was not needed, but a place I do not resent. It is just “this place” I seem to reside. 

That same evening, I ignored another odd-hour phone call to finish a game–a game I knew was rapidly coming to an end. I believed whatever awaited could simply give me these few minutes of joy before I entered that place. My swiftly returned call went unanswered. My brain did not panic, but there resided just a tinge of guilt. Had I ignored a call I should not have? I wondered what I might do if the call wasn’t returned. Should it go uninvestigated? Had it been just a simple call placed at an odd hour? Or had I ignored something of great importance? Had I just violated the basic tenant of “this place” I reside, not always being “there”?

If I am being honest, “this place” obviously bears some burden and stress, considering my mental consideration and written words. Maybe, after decades, it has instilled some sense of impending crisis in almost every unexpected call, regardless of the hour. They have robbed me of my time, happiness, family, friends, and so much more. So now, with every unexpected call, my brain immediately retrieves the ever-growing box of crisis plans, just in case. 

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Jake Smith is a law enforcement officer and former Army Ranger with four deployments to Afghanistan.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.