Some days stick in our memories and when the date rolls around, we either celebrate or somberly remember the anniversary. The days are always poignant if you shared the memory with someone who is no longer with you.
Jim and I were married while he was on R&R in Hawaii where we had only a few short days together. We said our vows in the Ft. DeRussy Chapel on December 20th and in the predawn hours of Christmas Day, Jim walked me to the gate to board a plane to take me home. After our goodbyes, he headed to his flight to return to the uncertainty of war.
The days dragged by, and I worried that something would go wrong. Finally, April rolled around, and I breathed a little easier knowing that he would be coming home within the week.
From Indelible, unfinished memoir:
Jim’s
parents and I arrived at the Kansas City airport hours ahead of time. It was
April 5, 1970, and Jim was on his way home from Vietnam. He was supposed to
come home on the fourth, but after an anxious day waiting for a call that
didn’t come, his parents and I had spent a restless night worried that
something had happened to him on his last day in Nam.
The
next morning he called from Seattle. He explained that the airport was under
attack the day before and they wouldn’t let the planes leave. “We kept saying,
just go!” After eleven months of expecting to be blown to bits at any moment,
he thought the odds were better to just get the hell out of there.
We
stood outside waiting for the passengers to disembark. I was wearing a long
psychedelic patterned polyester blouse over a short royal blue pleated skirt. The
blouse covered the baby bump.
A
crowd of people awaited the plane and the arrival of loved ones. From our
excitement, they knew we were there to meet a returning soldier. Airport
personnel let me go out in front of everyone and across the do-not-cross line.
Jim stepped off the plane and pushed his way past the other passengers to grab
me up in his arms. He was home at last!
He
kissed me and I tasted the bitter tang of alcohol. Unlike most women who have
morning sickness, I had afternoon sickness and it was about time for it to hit
me. “What on earth have you been drinking?”
“Vodka,”
he said sheepishly. “I thought vodka wasn’t supposed to smell.”
“Well,
I can taste it,” I said. Then I kissed him again, vodka taste or not.
Each year as April 5 rolls around, I always think of Jim’s homecoming. This year, we celebrated a homecoming of a different kind. Our family gathered at my Mom’s house so that she could meet all three of her great-great grandchildren. We were able to get a five-generation photo.
Jim loved family get-togethers, and I know in my heart that he was there celebrating with us.
Copyright ©April 2025 by L. S. Fisher
http://earlyonset.blogspot.com
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