Jim Davis – Father of Corporal Paul Davis

It was March 2, 2006 and I was slowly waking up to the sound of our clock radio. I remember blocking out the newscaster’s words “a Canadian soldier has been killed in Afghanistan.” On any other morning I would sit up in bed anxiously listening for the lead story and if it wasn’t on Afghanistan a warm feeling would come over me. I would kiss my lovely wife, Sharon, and say to myself “what a beautiful morning”. But on this particular morning I felt different. I chose to tune the news out. I showered, dressed and headed to my regular work space to check my email.

It was just a few minutes to nine when Melanie called. It didn’t even occur to me that it was odd for Mel to call at that hour of the morning. It was way too early, she being in Shilo, Manitoba. I think, subconsciously, I knew and I just didn’t want to hear it. It was when I heard Sharon’s words “Oh please Mel, tell me Paul’s O.K.” that I made the connection to “a Canadian soldier killed in Afghanistan.”

I will never forget that moment as long as I live. With Sharon starting to cry, sitting at the breakfast table and me standing behind her with my hands on her shoulders, I asked the question “Is he O.K.?”

It wasn’t until three weeks later, while standing in front of the bathroom mirror, did I finally remember how I got that ugly bruise over my left breast. I now remember hitting myself so hard it knocked me clear to the floor. The visibility of that bruise is now gone, but the bruise on my heart is still there. I know it will be there for life. It will never go away.
How do I live with this bruise in my heart? They say ‘time heals’ but I know different, it doesn’t. What time does though, is it gives you the opportunity to find the strength to cope. Where do you find this strength? I found mine by reaching out to others and allowing others to help me. The others can only be those who know my pain and they can only know my pain by having experienced it.

That is why the phone call (from a father of another fallen soldier) on the day Paul died was so important. Listening to him telling me he knew what I was going through because his son had been killed in Afghanistan in November gave me real comfort and hope. Here was a man as devastated as I and yet he could still pick up the phone and call me to offer some comfort. I remember the day his son was killed. During the recent Christmas holidays, I talked to Paul about the circumstances of how that soldier was killed. Now here I was talking on the phone to his father. It’s a feeling I cannot express in words but I can tell you that I knew then that I wasn’t alone and I knew what I had to do. I had to reach out and embrace other loved ones of fallen soldiers.

When I received a call in May with an invitation for me to fly to Edmonton for a one-day conference with seven military widows and another father of a fallen soldier I jumped at the chance. I knew this was an opportunity for me to share my grief. I so desperately needed to go. With my wife’s blessing and loving support, I packed my bags and headed for the airport. Sharon knew I had to go.

I will never forget that day in Edmonton. Here I was, sitting at a conference table with  lovely widows, mothers and another father. Each one of us took our turn and told our story. The everlasting impression on me was the fact that our losses went as far back as 1994 and each one told their story as though it happened yesterday. I cried with each story. I don’t know how many boxes of Kleenex I went through. We all cried, but the most important thing of all is that we also laughed.

We laughed and teased each other. Complete strangers and yet we were able to share our stories. What happened that day was indeed a miracle. I came away from the meeting a different person. I realized, having listened to their stories, that I wasn’t alone. I could truly feel the pain of each and every one of their losses. Their grief was my grief. 
We all had a common denominator. We had all lost a loved one through the Canadian Military service and we all knew our loved ones were true Canadian heroes. That was the comfort I was seeking.

I am so pleased we agreed to stay in touch with each other and to form a bereavement group so that we can reach out and help others in their time of need. I am now a volunteer with this group and each time I listen to the loved one of a fallen soldier I find my own grief much more tolerable even though the pain never gets any better.

If you are reading my words because you are one of those who has lost someone through military service, I want to encourage you to reach out to one of us. We know and understand your pain.

Jim Davis – Father of Corporal Paul Davis