Mom made her way around the bleachers, caught my eye, and started up. She was dressed in a simple green sheath, clothed in class and dignity.
She smiled as she took her seat next to me, patting me on the knee. “I saw Sam come in, too. You look beautiful today, Ember.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
We were both drawn to the noise and presence of the room, unable to look away from the joyous anticipation of the families waiting. Five more minutes.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked, concern in her eyes.
I nodded, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. “Mom, I’m sorry I was mad at you. I shouldn’t have been. If Josh ever . . . If he . . . I don’t know if I could go on living, let alone function, and he’s not even mine. Dad and you, that was over twenty years, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you lost him.”
She pulled me against her shoulder and leaned her head against mine. “You had every right to be angry with me. And for the record, it was you. You, Gus, April, that’s what held me here. You’re what made it worth it.”
“I love him so much, Mom. I don’t know how to get past this.”
“Then don’t.” She pulled back, propping my chin up with her fingers. “If you love that boy, you don’t get past him. Love is precious, Ember, and it doesn’t come around very often. What you feel for Josh? It might never come again. Could you live your life knowing you’d let it slip away?”
“I can’t stand by and watch him die. I can’t.” I shook my head, my lips pursing to fight back the swell of emotions. “I can’t start this in fear of where it ends.”
“No one knows where it ends.” Her fingers shook just enough to be noticed. “Why do you think I made you come here today?”
I shrugged, looking at all the waiting families around us, counting down their last moments before this deployment would end for them. “For closure?”
She laughed. “Oh, God, no. All you’ve ever seen from our life is the bad. You’ve seen the good-byes, the moving, the distance. You’ve held my hand through deployments and cared for your siblings when I couldn’t. You’ve seen the folded flags and watched your father lowered into the ground, but you have never seen the high, what usually happens at the end of a deployment. You need to understand why it’s worth it.”
“Nothing can be worth it, Mom.”
A sly smile graced her lips. “I’ll accept my Mom-was-right moment in just a minute.”
Right on cue, the loudspeaker came on. It was time. The families came to their feet, the noise comparable to one of Josh’s hockey games, but more passionate.
I stood with my mother, our arms around each other’s waists, an island of mourning in a sea of unbridled joy; the waves were taking us over.
The doors flung open, and the soldiers marched inside. Cries of delight filled the air, welcoming home heroes like rock stars, tangible relief in the giddy squeals. The tears that threatened me weren’t ones of grief, but an overwhelming need to let out the emotions I couldn’t contain: sadness that this wasn’t our day, happiness for the baby girl clapping in front of me, thankfulness that my father’s soldiers and friends had made it home alive. He would want this. If there was anywhere he would want to be, it would be here, now.
There were two hollow spots in the first row of the company, and my mother let out a smile and a sigh. “They came home with them in spirit.”
I stared at that empty space, imagining my father standing stoic and straight.
After a speech that seemed to last a lot longer than the thirty seconds the clock witnessed, the general ordered, “Dismissed!”
The bleachers cleared like it was the last touchdown of the Super Bowl, a stampede of love avalanching down to consume the gym floor in a melee of hugs and kisses.
I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
My mother squeezed my waist, pulling me in tighter. “This is what you needed to see. There is not one moment I have ever regretted loving your father. Even after losing him, I would go back and choose him all over again, and that has nothing to do with you kids. Even if we didn’t have you, the years I was able to spend with him are well worth the price of this pain.” She gestured to the reunions going on below us. “These moments, these are the ones you cling to, because it may hurt to send him away, but nothing compares to having him back. It makes you more thankful for what you have, more aware of just how precious it is.”
She turned to me, holding my face, so alike hers, in her hands. “Do not take love for granted.”
“June!” Sam’s mom called out from the floor, dressed in uniform.
“Sandra!” Mom called back. She squeezed my hand and descended, leaving me alone on the bleachers while pictures were taken and hugs were given in front of me.
Sam waved up to me, but stayed on the bottom row, somehow sensing I needed to be alone. She was good like that.
I sat and pulled my purse over, opening the latch and removing the worn envelope addressed to me. I carefully opened the seal and slid out the single 8x10 piece of notebook paper scrawled in my father’s familiar writing.
Yes, if there was anywhere he’d be, it was here, and I was finally ready to hear what he wanted to say.
Oh My Beautiful December,
When your mom named you on that freezing night, it felt fitting. You were such a calm baby, patient and soft like snow. It wasn’t long until I realized what a fire you had within you and knew Ember was what you always would be to me.