Before

Fractures hurt.

After reluctantly dropping Jen off to catch her flight to San Jose, California the situation there in the southern portion of the state kept getting worse. My stomach soured and my inner negative talk fed my fears of the possible near future. It started as a protest against the feds and police departments that chased alleged illegals from the southern border to California. I was at home keeping myself busy while listening or watching the News reports. The situation was devolving quickly. I felt the urge to protect her. I had two weeks of waiting and hoping until she was slated to return home. Home means back into my arms and safety. I’d worry throughout the day until I’d hear from her, reassuring me of her safety. It was of little assurance as she was beginning to worry as I was. I would occasionally receive communications from Greg, my ex-Army friend, giving me warnings of what was coming. “Be prepared”. Cryptic. Prepared for what we’ve discussed? Another one of his text shared stills of video, which confirmed the illegal immigrants who were chased were Chinese regulars and Jihadist. They were also seen leading the riots. “Come see me when this kicks off, Hermano. Buenos Suertes. Going dark, out.” After those revelations I puked my guts out. Knowing for sure things weren’t going to magically turn itself around. Some mornings after a restless night, it would take me hours to get out of bed dreading what the day would bring. Dreading not hearing from her. I’d work out, do my normal routine augmented by going to the range. I made sure all my guns were dialed in. Then do drills, Immediate Action Drills. All mags were filled, clothing and go bag ready. Took the time to readjust my kit to be more efficient. Then I gathered my AR and gear and placed it all in my car. Waiting. All the while, checking my phone about a million times for word. I don’t know what about this time around, but I knew this was going to be the time. When things would break. We had gone past the point of no return. You could feel it. The back of freedom was going to break. I’ve been preparing for years by this point. Motivated by the past, Katrina Louisiana, FEMA fiasco and hurricane Sandy in New Jersey. This time around would be a thousand times worse, and the feds were going to be busy. I accepted that no one would be coming to save us. And I realized that I’m responsible for my family’s safety. Self-save was the catch phrase. I stayed at home getting ready to go west into the lion’s den. I would get stuck in my head then go hit the heavy bag or wing Chun dummy till I couldn’t stand. Until the voices and images stop haunting me. Sweat literally a pool at my feet. Keep your powder dry and hatchet sharp. I’d tell myself. Meaning be ready at any time. All the signs were there for the discerning to assimilate. I opened the lift gate, check my gear for the one hundredth time this week, added the Jerry cans full of fuel. Sat inside beside my gear, tapping my foot, staring at the wall. Waiting for the call to move. I was ready, terrified but ready.