After waiting for what seems like an eternity, your person is finally coming home. You find yourself doing all the things to get your home ready to receive its missing member. Like doing that deep clean you have been putting off for weeks, restocking the fridge and pantry full of their favorite snacks, and of course decking the house from top to bottom in everything red, white and blue to symbolize the homecoming of your partner in crime. I know this to be true because it was me (and will be again one day). I bet I am not alone in forgetting to remember that the upcoming homecoming is also a moment set in time just for me.
When your service member first leaves, the days pass so slowly that you feel like they will never be back. Then somehow you find a rhythm and routine. You find yourself going through life’s experiences “together” but “separate.” When something amazing happens, who do you want to celebrate with? When something heartbreaking happens, whose arms do you want to find comfort in? Who do you want to just go through everyday life with?
As the days pass, you get closer and closer to waking up on “the” much-anticipated day. The day you have been patiently — but not so patiently — but still patiently waiting for. You picked out the perfect outfit, did your hair in their favorite style and painted the perfect “Welcome Home” sign. Your hands are sweating, your mind is racing, and your heart is pounding while waiting on the pier, airstrip, terminal, etc., for your person to be close enough to touch. Then you see people starting to move about in anticipation of their arrival. There is a call for those who gave birth during the deployment to gather in one spot, and when that happens, you know it’s real and the moment is getting closer.
In just moments, your person will be home, and everyone’s person will be home, safe in the arms of the ones who love them. Now for me, I feel as though my breath is caught in my chest, unable to exhale until I see him step off that ship, onto the pier with arms wide open. Arms that are calling me to them, waiting to wrap me in an embrace that I have been waiting for – for what seems like an eternity.
I don’t know about y’all, but with every homecoming comes a roller coaster of emotions. The main one for me is a little anxiousness mixed with nervousness. “Why?” you ask, the answer is simple. Because butterflies, that’s why (lol.) My heart still skips a beat, and I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach. While we are running around doing all the celebratory things to show our person how much they are missed, underneath it all, we are getting to show our person that they are worth the “trouble” and then some.
Remember to take a breath and be present in the moment. We are lucky in a sense to truly live in “absence makes the heart grow fonder” in the best possible way. When you see your person, smile as brightly as the sun itself. Run to them, hug them, just breathe them in, and remember that “homecoming” is just that — a homecoming. A piece of your heart that has been away for so long is coming home to you. It’s a moment set in time and homecomings are for you, too.
