Silent understanding

It is 8:36 p.m. the kids and I are driving around post just wasting time. The entire day has drug by and now it seems as though the minutes are frozen. We have circled the base, not really going anywhere in particular at the moment.

It is now 8:50, and I have decided it is time to finally make our way to our destination. As I pull up a soldier directs me to a parking lot that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. I quickly jump out and get the kids so that I can make sure and catch a couple strangers walking by. I ask if they know where they are going, thankfully they do, and we head towards a building with more soldiers standing outside directing us where to go. The kids and I walk in, and realize that there are already tons of people waiting. We take a seat and enter a new series of anticipation.

Surprisingly the time doesn’t seem to be moving too slow at this point. The children located the snack room and fill up on cookies and juice. The minutes turned into hours, and before we knew it the ceremony is about to begin. Little did I know this was when everything would come to a halt.  They announced that everything would begin in approximately ten minutes, longest ten minutes of my life.

I had not been nervous about anything that was happening, and I was to my surprise very calm. The time had come. Soldier after soldier entered the building lining up into formation. There he was, our soldier, our daddy, our husband. There were over one hundred soldiers, so it seemed as though it took forever for us to be able hold him. The kids had looks on their faces that only military families know about. Priceless looks that somehow understand that it is over, dad is here to stay for a while.

Once they were released from formation, the calm of the crowd was gone and all of a sudden it was a mad dash to find and hug your soldier. We chose at that point to just stay put and let him come to us. He grabbed the older two in a nice swoop, and hugged that year long hug they all had been dreaming about. The baby was next, who did not want to stop hugging and kissing his dad. The dad that has missed too many mile stones of his life, and yet he holds no grudge, because there is a silent understanding.

This is the moment you think you understand, but until you live it you will never fully grasp the true emotions. It is hard to describe, unreal, like a movie, and very very emotional. I can only imagine what it is like for the soldiers themselves to finally be back in their family’s arms.

It has been a few days now that we have been whole again, I am waiting for the day to hit that this does not seem like a dream. I feel as though he will be taking off again, any day now to head back to Iraq. His second home. We will be saying goodbyes again before we know it for training and what not, but nothing compared to this last goodbye.

I thank every service man and woman for giving their time, and lives to serve. To the families that stay home and make sure that they have a home to come back to. And especially to the children, the ones who do not fully understand the extent that they have given up so that they may also live the military life. They are true heroes themselves.