Reunion

This is 5-Minute Friday, where a bunch of writers take a one-word prompt and write about it for five minutes.  No editing, no polishing.  Just one word and go.  Today's prompt is Whisper.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

Psalm 91:1

The sun shone brightly on a warm Texas day.  A crowd was already gathered and I forgot about my camera in the looking.

There were young mothers, with waddling toddlers and babies in strollers.  Little hands clinging to the hems of mom's t-shirts or clutching stuffed animals close, some carrying sippy cups, some carrying flags.  I marveled at the tattoos - decorative, beautiful, graphic - on ankles and calves, on shoulders, across backs.  I marveled at the choice of permanent art on youthful skin, and wondered how these choices would look in ten years, in twenty.  Would they fade?  Would they fold in and out as the skin grew old and wrinkles?   Would they look like a dusty old canvas, or would they age elegantly like a fine wine?  I marveled.

There were grandparents, silver-haired and purposefully slow - protecting knees and hips from the slight unevenness of the grassy lawn.  Red, white and blue dominated the colors in the crowd - a show of patriotism, a show of support for the troops to come.

There were soldiers, in digital-camouflage, attentive eyes and courteous smiles.  They held the background and blended - peacekeepers and crowd shepherds.  Standing by the cordon ropes, positioned at the grandstand seating, directing, pointing, answering with 'Yes, M'am' and 'No, Sir'.  A polite and official presence in the waiting.

We were waiting for the white busses.  The transportation that would bring our soldiers home from a long year in a far off place.  Finally.

The crowd roared and clapped when the busses came.  My daughter waved her flag and then she burst into tears.  The waiting.  The soldiers disembarked for their final formation.  Flags raised, marching forward, only the faces individual in the wall of green.  The crowd hushed to a whisper waiting.  Waiting for the words they had come to hear.  Waiting for the real touch, the real voice, the soldier in the flesh.  Reunion.

And the words finally came - "...Dismissed.  Families, find your soldier...."

Linking with 5-Minute Friday

Just a note - this post is based on my husband's homecoming from his second deployment.  Beth, I was thinking about you and your soon-to-be reunion with your deployed husband, as well as other military families who live through the separation of their loved ones in this life they've chosen.  I chose to include the first verse of Psalm 91 because it was my daily prayer for my husband's safety.  It is a good prayer.