The Friday entries of "The Powder Room" are currently from a journal which I started when we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.
Day 274, March 7, 2005
Noah is home. Really home.
What a combination of feelings we all felt last night at the airport!
In true Recon fashion, just as they left quietly without fanfare or ado, they returned quietly without ceremony or pomp.
We stood facing the gates, our eyes glued to any moving figure -- "Is it him?" -- we almost seemed like little kids with their faces pressed against the glass trying to see Santa. We had no less anticipation than those kids either.
Aimee talked about how fast her heart was beating and I realized mine was racing, too. I almost felt afraid to breathe lest I miss that first glimpse. Everyone waiting at the window remarked at how disappointed we must look to everyone who passed by who wasn't Noah. Then I saw him.
My thoughts then were the same as the first time I ever saw his face, not even fully born yet, I thought "He looks like my brother Chester!" Then when he looked at Aimee, the smile on his face was priceless. In that moment I wished I had broken my promise to him and brought the video camera anyway.
As we were waiting for him to walk through the security gate, Marie commented that she had been the first to cry and Emmie emphatically stated that she did not and was not going to cry. Just at that point, Noah came through the gate and Aimee and Noah fell into each other's arms. Emmie, with tears on her cheeks, said softly, "OK, now I'm gonna cry."
That night, sitting in the living room, listening to Noah tell stories and watching everyone around him laugh and have their attention riveted to him (as if he might be swept away again if we didn't), reminded me of the younger Noah telling stories.
What a sweet thing for a mother to be able to kiss all her children goodnight and to sleep the peaceful sleep of one who has seen with her own eyes that all is well.
The main thing I learned listening to Noah's stories was exactly how much our prayers were answered. For all the incidences we heard about we know there are thousands more that we will never know. The one thing it makes me want to do is to thank the Lord over and over for His unspeakable faithfulness.