What a Surprise!

Last Wednesday was shaping up to be a colision of familial love that includes the unintended potential for hurt feelings. Our daughter and I had been missing each other for several days on the phone. She had "Skyped" (a new verbal form of a technology noun - like "Googled" or it participle form "Googling") her mother a couple times and I was missing. So she had set a "Skype" appointment with me for 9pm Wednesday night.





Later the same day, my wife called to say that Kyle had called and wanted to talk with me later. This made sense since he had been telling us for weeks that he had some big news for us, but that it was confidential. I assumed that he had promoted or something like that. It seemed likely that Kyle would want to tell me the news directly. He would be calling at ... you guessed it ... 9pm Wednesday.





Now we have always tried to not play favorites - letting each of our kids know that they were, in fact, our favorite (only a parent understands how that works). But now I was being forced to make a decision on which of the two I was going to talk with at 9pm. But as the hour approached, the situation was complicated even further. About 8:45pm I received a call from the third of our kids (actually the first born) who stated with great enthusiasm that he had something he wanted me to see. I told him about my pending phone appointments and he said he was in the neighborhood; it would only take a minute.





As he bolted through the door he said, "I got something from Iraq in the trunk and I want you to see it. I think you are going to get something from Iraq too." This made perfect sense for two reasons: 1) Kyle loves to spend money on people that he loves, and 2) He had sent flowers to his mother, sister and sister-in-law a week earlier. So I followed to the trunk of the car to see the gift from Iraq. As our oldest son popped open the trunk he motioned to indicate into which part of the trunk I should be looking. I dove headlong into the trunk and started rummaging about for something Iraqi looking. The voice over my shoulder said, "Look a little deeper." I went further, moving aside the camofloge backpack that was impeding my progress. "Its under that blanket." I worked harder on my quest, thinking that it must be a small item and that I had overlooked it.





It was only then that some pieces started to tumble into place - or more accurately - the pieces were not fitting. The voice behind me, though very similar, had changed tamber slightly. And the backpack that had been in my way looked for all the world like Kyle's and it had his last name on it. Slowly I backed out of the trunk to further investigate the confusion in my head, only to see that the voice over my shoulder was dressed in ACU and looked remarkably like Kyle. YAHOO! Kyle's home for 2 weeks leave.





More to come ... (like the details of his 7 day trip home - without a shower)

Not a Word ...

It is hard to sit at home knowing that loved ones are thousands of miles away standing "in harms way" (I'm not even sure what that phrase means, but I know it always applies to those in military service). This is the life of the parents of soldiers. And it is just a little harder when it has been nearly two weeks since last we received word. If you are still faithfully checking this blog, then you know that my entries have declined significantly. Please know that this is owing not to the lack of desire to keep you informed. Instead, it is the direct result of having heard "not a word" (title).

I've grown so desperate for information that I even logged onto "Facebook" to get some info and I don't even know how to use "Facebook". I just know that "Momma" sometimes hears from Kyle there. Alas ... no Kyle there either. It was 4:30am when I hit FB - hoping that, since it would be 3:30pm in Iraq, he might be up and logged on. Nope.

So here is what has come to mind in this dearth of contact:

1) I wonder how parents of soldiers in past conflicts dealt with the separation? In Viet Nam, Korea, WW1 & WW2, Civil War, Revolutionary War, parents were dependant on a mail system that could be at times entirely unreliable. We are so spoiled with satellite phones and Internet connections. Shoot, if Kyle still had his computer we could actually conference via web cam and actually see his face. How cool is that? We have grown accustom to calls at least weekly.

2) I wonder how our heavenly Father feels when we fail to check in, close the "chat window" and generally ignore his daily, hourly messages of love written in the creation? That reminds me, I've got a "call" (read that as "prayer") I need to make ... I need to check in ... I know HE misses me.

More to come ...