Safe and Sound

Last week, I wrote about one of my "best experiences from childhood" because Becca started a writing prompt that she named Sensational Stories Saturday. I'm all about some alliteration, especially s(es) so of course I wanted to play along! ;) Today, I thought I might not go as far back because some of my very best experiences have been growing in different ways as an adult.

In many ways, I was a child myself. Fresh out of TTU, my experiences were limited to getting my heart broken or inadvertently breaking someone else's. Sure, that pain is rough- the kind that gnaws at your heart, leaving big gaping holes that feel as though they'll never be re-patched. Still, they don't really touch the feeling of watching someone you're irrevocably in love with head off to war.

But that was months ago. This day would be different. This day, I would see him again.

What if it's awkward? Who gets to hug him first- his mom or me? What if I cry again? What if I don't look how he remembers me? Will people clap and stare, adding to the awkwardness? If his flight doesn't arrive on time, I'll die.

I got to his parents' house so that we could ride to the airport together. His mom was still busying herself with last minute preparations for her oldest son who would grace us with his presence for two uninterrupted, glorious weeks before he would have to hop on a red eye flight back to Iraq. I don't want to think about that.

I don't want to think about anything. Thinking doesn't pass time. It slows it down.

We went to the grocery store. I vaguely remember her asking me about cheese, but I couldn't think of cheese at a time like this. I was going to be sick. Sick physically. A little sick mentally. Sick of wondering how this would all play out. I think she recognized my inability to think of little else than her son that I'd soon be seeing for the first time in eight excruciating months.

The airport seemed too slow.

The clocks, the people.

Nothing was making this any easier.

I wore the wrong thing. I look ridiculous. What do I say?

"Hi" doesn't seem sufficient.

Then, a text- "we're pulling into the gate."

My heart.

Minutes later, my love was walking down the walkway of McGhee Tyson Airport fully outfitted in his ACUs and I was no longer worried about what we would say. 

He's here.

He's here.

Safe and sound.