Homecoming

My son was coming home, which was good and bad. He’d been injured training in the military, not severely, and was coming back to convalesce. Once he was fixed, I knew he’d be off again. I took some time off to get him at the airport. We spoke on the phone.

“Of course I’ll come get you, what airport and when?”
“Today, and I’m coming into DCS.”
“Don’t do that! It’s bad luck!”
“What?”
“It’s September 11th…”
“I’m not living life that way, Pops.”

It was so good hugging him when he landed. It’s a better memory I forever want to keep for that day.


(WC:105)