At 9 a.m. Saturday morning, I was going to write my Sunday post about how terrible I felt. How sad, how homesick, how blah, blah, blah.
At 11 a.m. Saturday morning, I was going to write my Sunday post about how much progress I had made on my hurricane preparedness, having bought some water and rice crackers and gluten-free canned soups at Whole Foods.
At 2 p.m. Saturday afternoon, I was despairing about how boring my writing had become, and how I wasn’t going to post anything on Sunday because I was a boring writer.
At 5 p.m. Saturday early evening, I was going to write my Sunday post about my new addiction to college football, and all the teams I root for because I have family in those towns or because they accepted me or my kids, or because I just like them: University of Kansas, Texas Tech, Ohio State, Miami U. Ohio, Miami U. Florida, Colorado, Maryland, Georgia, Montana State, U. of South Carolina, Georgetown (I know); and against, mainly because they rejected or wait listed me or either of my kids: Penn State, Syracuse, Duke ( I really only root against them in basketball because I am not sure they even play football).
At 7 p.m. Saturday evening, I was going to write my Sunday post about the usual collection of nightmarish guests who seem to overpopulate Saturday nights in restaurants everywhere.
At 9 p.m. Saturday night, I stopped wondering about what I was going to write.
Because a family of four came in, very dressed up. But it was the son I noticed most of all. He wore his dress blue Marine uniform. He was as handsome as he was young.
He is being deployed to Iraq tomorrow, which means today. Sunday. The entire dining room applauded him when he came through the front door. He smiled and shook hands, so self-assured and so handsome. So young. His mother smiled, but she wore her her worry in the deep creases on her forehead, around her mouth. It was her expression that asked the question: “Is this the way I will remember my boy? By this night, by this place?”
I have cried so many tears for myself since I moved to South Florida. At 9 p.m. on Saturday night, I bit my lip to keep from crying for this boy and his family.
At 12:50 a.m., very early on Sunday, I write my post with a prayer in my heart for this boy’s safe return.
Comments
15 responses to “What I Didn’t Post Today”
RG- Whatever you write about, we’ll read it. You’re never boring. As for your feeling homesick, I totally understand. If I could email you a hug, I would.
I hope the son comes back home safe and sound. I hope they all do. My prayers go to him as well.
I hope for a safe return of the marine.
wow.
as a mom of a young boy (11) and girl (9) and still not yet born babe…. I can only imagine how that mother must have felt on that night out with her family. what a world.
My hope is that the young handsome boy doesn’t have to grow up too fast, comes home soon, and lives a full life to a ripe old age.
I was thinking of you today, RG. The last two days were just beautiful, cool, crisp lovely days. I hope the weather holds for your visit =)
I am glad that you wrote out all the many intentions of possible posts because we all have thoughts like those running through our minds (but we may not have a blog). Your catalog of concerns are human … the observation of what’s pure and important at the moment is very eloquent – in this case the family’s love for the soldier.
Where’s the delete button on my blog, when you read stuff like that everything is put into perspective……….
A great post. Amazing how something comes out of nothing.
A loving thought to all the family’s of all the service men . It’s a sacrifice I’m not sure I could make
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So touching. I can well imagine what that mother must have been feeling.
Oh sure, make me cry at work just thinking about that boy.
That’s so touching.
I read your blog all the time, and as an almost-South-Florida transplant (we ended up staying in Chicago at the last minute), I feel you. It’s a completely different world down there. Good luck with the transition.
PS Duke totally plays football, and I learned watching them beat Northwestern last weekend. Something I wish I had never learned! Stupid Duke.
Go Tech!
Go Tech! Guns Up!
Wait! You’re a gluten-free girl, too? Did I miss something?
No doubt that whatever you right about we’d read but this post is so touching. I remember the night before my sister left for Iraq. She was not only leaving behind a family that loved her but also her first born, a 4 month old boy whos father had shipped out 6 weeks before. Our whole family was full of pride yet filled with fear and so afraid to voice it.
Luckily my sister came back, changed due to all the things she had seen but still in one piece and ready to be a mother to the child that no longer knew her. My nephews father is preparing for his 4th tour and as each day passes our family prepares to hold our breath and send countless prayers up once again.