As I see soldiers here at Fort Irwin returning from Iraq, I am reminded of the many homecomings that my family has experienced over the few years. I remember the anticipation, anxiety, the love, hope, relief, and the fear.
I remember being one of a handful of wives who had to travel hours from all parts of Germany to pick up our husbands who should have been home a week earlier. He had been stuck in Kuwait and missed his daughter’s first birthday by three days. I listened to his frustration of being ready for any flight all day long, only to be turned down at the last minute. I remember being relieved that he was at least in Kuwait. Then he and just a couple other people stepped out of the van and he was back. I remember that kiss and feeling his arms around me and my daughter screaming because she had no idea who this stranger was. I remember my heart being torn out at that moment. I saw the pain in his eyes, put there by her rejection and her refusing to let go of me. I remember the fear and the insecurity floating around my head, wondering if I am still enough for him. I remember the moment when I realized we were us again.
I remember the second time he returned from war. It was much bigger than the first. There were hundreds of people excitedly waving their little flags and yelling for their loved ones. I remember holding on to a three year old and an eleven month old and trying not to drop them on the bleachers. I remember the pride of seeing the double doors open in the hanger and seeing our soldiers walking through them in formation. I remember wanting them to quit talking and for them to let me just touch him.
The third time he returned from war was one of those 0200 arrival times, and of course they didn’t announce the second delay until you got there. So I remember the 0500 arrival. I remember sitting out on the fenced-off tarmac, now trying to keep track of a five year old and a three year old. I remember waiting for what seemed like forever, and I remember holding my breath and thinking this is taking too long. Then I remember getting that text, “Coming in now,” and I remember breathing again. I remember the relief of seeing the plane land and park, and I remember squeezing my friend’s hand and letting go of the stress of the last year or more. I remember hoping that he will never have to go to war again.
Every time I see a “Welcome Home” banner I am reminded of how many times we have welcomed him home, and then I feel that part of me that will not loosen up until they are all home. All our Soldiers, Marines, Airmen, and Sailors who I don’t know. The ones that I have never set eyes on and the friends that I miss every day because they are a part me, a part of all of us, and we will never be whole until they are all home.
Tags: acceptance, afghanistan, Army wife, Christina Piper, Deployment, family, her war, iraq, Marriage, military, military life, Military spouses, military wife, post deployment, readjustment, Recover, redeployment, soldier, time, unity