27 October 2007

When you’re away in a combat zone, coming home goes faster than a blink of an eye. One second you’re home
and the next you stop and look around and the expression “You’re not in Kansas anymore,” never made any more
sense than at that moment. The hot sun beats down, reflects off of the rocks and the heat dries up the tears rolling
off of your face before they hit the ground. Everything that you had in those two weeks disappears and you’re left
with only a couple of pictures and a memory. That memory, however, is the single most motivating thought in your
mind the rest of the deployment. That dream that you thought you just had drives you to walk through hell if you have
to. You’re determined to make it home and see your friends, your brother’s dog, the girl that you realize means the
world to you, and you’re going to make it home for your entire family that misses you more than you might ever care
to imagine.

For the days coming up to my leave I was asked, “Are you excited yet? In a few days you’re going to be home!” But
my reply was always that it just hadn’t hit me yet. It’s almost something you don’t want to think about because it’ll
just make the time go by slower. So I got into a zone and tried my best not to think about being home in less than a
week. The plane ride from here to the states was long and the process way drawn out. Travel time took a couple of
days, but before I knew it I was landing in Atlanta.

I always thought that seeing all the modern restaurants, lights, and electricity would be the thing that got me the
most excited. It just so happens that buying a bottled Coke did more for me than anything else. Seeing people in
regular clothes and the American looking atmosphere was pretty much surreal, like I was just dreaming. It wasn’t
until I was 30 miles away from Baltimore and 2 miles high that I hit that my ticker started counting down faster and
faster.

The plane made its way right up the bay and it wasn’t until I saw an island out in the distance did I gain my sense of
direction. Kent Island, seemingly being held in place by the Bay Bridge, was the first thing I recognized in Maryland.
And as the plane slowly turned its way west, my eyes slowly began to fill up with tears as Baltimore City leisurely
made its way into my window. It was at that time that the clock kicked in and things started going full notch. It was
probably the most beautiful sight I’d seen in ages and I just sat there looking out the window with an ear-to-ear
grin, my eyes drowning in tears.

I took my time getting off of the plane. I wiped my eyes and tried to wipe my smile off my face with them. I doubt it
worked. I took a couple of deep breaths because I knew a cry-fest was about to take place in less than ten minutes.
I made my way up the tunnel and to my surprise my family stood right outside the gate. I thought I had at least a
couple of minutes to go into the bathroom and compose myself because they wouldn’t be allowed to come down to
the gate. I was wrong, my family stood there has happy as could be waiting for me. The first person I saw was my
brother Rusty, then I started making out the rest of them, my dad, Meme, my grandmother, but someone was
missing. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw a lady, which I had just passed, standing in the corner looking down
the tunnel still. “Are you looking for someone?” I said walking over and giving my Mom a huge hug. It was just a few
seconds before I noticed that her eyes were dampening and I had to move on before I’d be doing the same. I didn’t
take long with anyone, in fear that I’d look like a sis.

My dad hung out in the back and before I even got to him I could see him tearing up. I found out later that he had
intended to be up front and see me first, I’m glad he wasn’t cause it probably would have been even harder for the
rest. I gave him a hug that had nothing on the grip that he took on me. Taking a deep breath, I told them I needed to
go to the bathroom—which was true, but I also needed regain my composure.

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Blink of an Eye (R&R)
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