T.J. Rabe Is Heading Back to Iraq
By AMANDA HAMMON
YAKIMA HERALD-REPUBLIC
SUNNYSIDE ? T.J. Rabe's world is all upside down.
He's not looking over his shoulder everywhere he walks. He isn't reaching for a weapon. There aren't camel spiders chasing him, nor are snipers shooting at him. There are no last minute life-and-death decisions to make.
There's just new life, the small form of his look-alike son cradled in his wife's arms. A no-uniform, jeans and T-shirt moment with the two people more dear to his heart than anyone else on the planet.
And he has scant few days to spend with them before returning to Iraq and his post as a sergeant with the 737th Transportation Company. The Army Reserve unit based at the Yakima Training Center was sent to the Middle East in February. The company, which mostly transports fuel, has been stationed at Camp Doha, Kuwait, but is now in the process of moving into southern Iraq.
Still, T.J., 26, and his wife, Kristin, 21, are exceedingly grateful for the 15-day leave he was given for the birth of their son. Tyler James came into the world at 7:43 a.m. May 14 with all the size and vigor of a tailback, says his proud father.
This little 22-inch, 8-pound, 13-ounce fellow will play football. T.J. can just tell. After all, "he's already crawling."
The baby has his daddy's red locks ? "we like to think of it as strawberry blonde," T.J. says, adding that nobody who has red hair likes it. Plus, the boy was born with hair longer than military regulations. T.J. fiddled with the baby's soft hair as his son nestled against his chest.
"He's ready for a haircut. High and tight," T.J. says.
Kristin just rolls her eyes, big, almond-shaped blue eyes like her son's.
The Rabes obviously are in awe over their status as parents.
"It's everything," Kristin says. "It's so much more than anyone could prepare you for. I told T.J., 'He's half of you and half of me. He's ours.'"
Kristin may be biased, but she looks at her son and sees "T.J. through and through. The only thing the kid has of mine are toes that spread like piano fingers. I wanted to get a little mini T.J., and I got him."
The new parents have a new routine. Kristin "is just food. Daddy is sleep," she says. Tyler won't go to sleep unless he's on his daddy's chest.
That's just fine, until Tuesday. That's when T.J. returns to Iraq. Then Kristin knows she will have to be sleep and food both.
Mom and dad. Strength and play. Until daddy gets home.
"I keep trying to think that he's here, not that he's leaving," Kristin says.
All she prayed for is that he'd be home for Tyler's birth, and "now I'm praying that something will happen and he won't have to go back."
Says T.J.: "She doesn't want me to go back, but I want to go back. I want to finish my time."
He would have been out of the service May 20 had his unit not been activated. Now he has eight more months to serve, assuming his duty isn't extended.
The unspoken truth is that T.J. has to go back to an increasingly volatile Iraq. He's stony in his assessment of the situation: The war isn't over. The enemy is nebulous. Politics rule over strategy, and American soldiers lose their lives because of it. He isn't going to be one of them.
"I have too many dreams for this little guy here and our family," he says.
Kristin is hopeful and prayerful and trusting, but is in no way ignorant of the risks. They have plans for his return.
It will be in February. Then the family will take a vacation. One day they will celebrate Thanksgiving. There will be turkey and probably football. Then they will celebrate Christmas. There will be presents and snowmobiling. Kristin will finish a distance education humanities degree through Washington State University and get a teaching certificate from Heritage College.
T.J. was studying religion with an emphasis on youth ministry, but he may change his major to business. Most importantly, he'll be home to take care of his family.
Until then, they will miss each other.
"Instead of just missing a wife, it's missing a son and a wife," T.J. says. "I can't wait for eight months to go by so I can play with him. He'll be ready to have facial expressions then."
Until Tuesday, Kristin just looks at the two redheads nestled near each other and relishes the glimpse of her family.
"They're the two most precious things in the world. And they're both home.
"And one's not in my stomach," she adds gratefully.
BRIAN FITZGERALD/Yakima Herald-Republic
Kristin Rabe, left, looks on while her husband, Sgt. T.J. Rabe, holds their infant son, Tyler James. T.J., a member of the Yakima-based 737th Transportation Company, leaves Tuesday to rejoin his unit in Kuwait and Iraq.
__________________
|