The First Waves

Saw some friends off this week. This part was the mere formality, of course, the real sendoff having come earlier in the week - a celebration in darkness, light and noise in places of smoke and stone and glass and old wood and newer brews and food the likes of which they won't be seeing for a while.

Then later the official departure. The headquarters parking lot, the bus for the brief first leg of a much longer trip. And ticking clocks and failing bravado and the stripping away of all the grander, large scale things that necessitate the moments like these. Moments when things become real and personal, and hands are held to the last moment and children are kept wrapped tightly in strong and gentle arms for the longest possible last time - for a little while.

And whispers are exchanged and little is said aloud because throats are a bit constricted. And from the corner of my eye towards the back of the crowd I spot the wife of the first man on handing a tissue to the child of another.

"It won't be real for me until I see the tail lights go around that corner..." someone told me earlier, and all too soon that becomes the reality.

And off the rest of us go, some back to our own preparations for a day like this one. Some back to their schools and others back to slighly quieter homes.

Someone else emailed me from Iraq today, describing his current "home": There is Burger King, Pizza Hut, Subway, Poppeyes, Seattle's Best, 10 x of flat screen televisions for sale in the PX ... There is a swimming pool on this base -- they got it working. They have the Green Bean coffee shop, and all the ice cream you can eat in the dining facilities. I see live bands in the dining facilities on a regular basis -- including last night (playing Jimmy Buffet).

All good things, I suppose - for those for whom all the truly good things will have to wait.