Welcome Home...

Today Samuel and I went down the street to the armory in Galva. He sat in his stroller and ate a candy bar and I pushed. We walked past dozens of American flags and yellow ribbons. Including one that was on our light pole. We walked past a marching band, dozens of news reporters both TV and papers. We walked past people wearing all kinds of military camo, or Delta shirts. We walked past people taking pictures of everything. Some were dressed up with their hair done. Some looked as if they had just come from wearing their PJ's and ran out the door. Strollers, and legionnaires, and flags everywhere. You see today was the day the Galva Guard came home from Afghanistan. Today was the day MY husband was supposed to come home too. We watched while across the street the children from elementary school poured out of their classes waving their homemade signs and flags. We watched as the anticipation grew and grew and grew. And then we all heard the sirens. My heart began to race and the tears began to flow. I tried to hide it. Really I did. I backed up the stroller allowing the families to get up close and personal taking pictures. Soon around the corner came the police cars, then the ambulances, and then the motorcycles. Dozens of patriot guard riders who had led these brave men and women home, all the way from another state. And then, just then, came around the corner a big red and white bus. You see everyone knows who and what is in that big bus. The crowd began to roar, people began to sob, children began to scream. And I, well I began to cry silent tears. Uncomfortable tears. I instantly moved out of the way because the bus stopped right in front of us. The band was playing, "I've been working on the railroad" (seriously why that song?!?! I didn't quite understand that but anyway) and the soldiers marched straight past their families into the armory. (This is what they are supposed to do. They hadn't been dismissed yet) I slowly followed in the patriot guard riders who were commenting on how they needed to find a bathroom because it is a VERY long ride from Wisconsin to Galva. (And it is, about 4 hours at least) I stood in the entry way when I was approached from behind. My husband's old boss came up and gave me a huge bear hug. He had just returned from Afghanistan 1 month prior to this, and I hadn't seen him yet. He looked at Sam and commented something about, "Little Bill" (speaking of Sam) and walked into the ceremony. Then another friend of ours who was on orders to stay at home told me there was, "plenty of room" to go on in. And all the while I felt as if I was out of place. I walked in and tried to stop my tears while I watched the commanders praise our men over and over again. And then, just then, we heard the words families, parents, wives, sons, daughters, and most of all soldiers yearn to hear the most, "Dismissed!" I watched as a young wife ran over several other soldiers to reach her husband in the center. She about knocked him down as she grabbed him around the neck. I watched all these families of soldiers I personally know re-unite. I watched them over a year ago, at the send-off crying saying goodbye, and now watched them crying saying hello again. I thought of the friends we had lost while deployed. And right before I left I did something I never thought I would've ever done a couple of years ago. I walked right up to a man, my husbands arch enemy, and I patted his shoulder, reached out and shook his hand, and said, "Welcome home Paul". Then I turned and walked out of the armory and walked back home.

You see this year has changed me. My husband chose to leave this unit when he knew he was going to be deployed. We have watched many friends die, divorce, commit suicide, and become mentally unstable. So he switched to a different area of service which would make him deploy more, be working a lot more away from us, and take a huge pay cut. But when he deploys it will be in the United States. I have watched my husband cry at funerals of friends, shake his head at families falling apart, and he didn't want that life for us, for our family. So he left his friends, with a huge heavy heart. So when I went to the send-off ceremony I cried knowing if something would've been different he would be on that bus. I cried today knowing he would be standing in that line waiting to be dismissed. And I cried today, knowing there would've been a possibility that one of our friends, our fellow soldiers, who should be standing there but were not, because of horrible circumstance, could have been him.
None of our adoption would be possible if he had gone. Someday I'm going to tell Miss E everything Daddy gave up for her and the rest of our family. And I'm going to make sure she knows how much we loved her before we even knew her. And how if need be, Daddy would've died for her. If only that was what God had planned.......Welcome home my friends.