Soldier Homecoming Video

Somebody sent this video to me on facebook. It really struck a chord with me. (That is a fancy way of saying I bawled my eyes out the entire time.)

It reminded me of the day I introduced Ross to Emma, his first-born child. It was in the Salt Lake City Airport. She was 7 weeks old. We had been living apart for 9 months, and we hadn't seen each other in person for almost 5 months. In the time that had lapsed between that reunion and our last goodbye, I had endured an emergency C-Section, post-partum depression, marital strife, spiritual questioning, and all the ups and downs that come from a new baby, living with family, and longing for affection. Ross had endured loneliness, personal attacks on his beliefs, marital strife, a string of serious seizures, stress about his future- our future, a series of medical tests, and a deep desire to meet his child and comfort his wife. It was rough.

I waited there in front of the escalators in the airport holding Emma Rose in a pink crocheted blanket. I was so giddy, and so nervous. I kept hoping I looked alright and that the waterproof mascara would hold up. (It didn't. I should have just done without for that night.)

When I first saw him coming down the escalator, all I could do was cry and smile in the pained and broken fashion you see so much of in this video. The tears continued to flow as we ran the last few feet between us and just held each other. All I could do was cry.

They were mostly happy tears. Tears of joy at being reunited with my love.

Tears of relief that he was safe.

Tears of happy nervousness, like those butterflies just before a hot date.

But there were other tears mixed in there - - darker tears.

Tears of pain.

Tears of sorrow.

Tears of angst.

Tears of worry and fear.

Tears of anger.

Tears full of deep and bothersome questions.

Will he still love me? Why did this happen to us? What will we do now? Are all those people watching us? How will we reconnect? Are we squishing the baby? Will he be a good father? Will I be a good mother? Why can't I just be happy in this moment instead of terrified? How will this work out? Can he get a job? Should I get a job? When will this heaviness between us lift? Will I still be lonely? Can I really fulfill him like I want/used to?

It was intense. It was one of those pivotol moments in my life that I can't quite pin a tag of either happy or sad on. It lies somewhere in between- or on a different spectrum, maybe.

This video made me weep as I thought back on all that anxiety and pain I felt when my soldier came home. It was so hard, and my soldier was never at war. In a national disaster zone with exposure to deadly bacteria and chemicals- yes. In a foreign country with extreme conditions, deadly insurgents, and daily IED worries- no. Not even close!

I have no idea how those families do it. I can't believe I was so close to being one of those wives. I definitely do not even come close to understanding what lied behind all those expressions and tears in this video, but I think I have at least a teensy bit of a clue. I am awed by them. They are heroes. All of them.

I am grateful there are brave and honorable men and women in this country who are willing to sacrifice so much for us. I am thankful for the families of those soldiers who support and love them even though it breaks them down in so many ways to do so. God bless them all.