Anniversary

Yes, it's tax day, but last year on April 15 taxes were the furthest thing from my mind. It was this time last year - exactly a year ago today - that Steve came home from Iraq.

I arrived in Kansas three or four days before he did, having no idea when he'd actually get in. I was told that I'd get information from the Army a few weeks before he came home, but for some reason there was a miscommunication along the line, and our unit's family members were officially notified the day before. In my case, they called me 13 hours before he actually got off the bus at Fort Riley. Fortunately, I was already in town.

Steve himself ended up being the best resource I had in terms of planning, since he could call from Iraq as they were packing up and give me his best guess as to when they'd be returning. He didn't know anything concrete, and couldn't really tell me the exact dates and times of their flights out of BIAP (Baghdad International Airport) and Kuwait over the phone. But I was able to get a rough, three-day window as to when they'd arrive. I went to Kansas early to set up his apartment, so he'd have a "home" to come home to. I gave it my best effort, but I'm afraid the results weren't the most impressive: Setting up his apartment meant going to Wal-Mart for necessities, buying a few groceries, and moving what I could from his storage unit to his second-floor apartment. Because I had to carry everything in myself, the only furniture he came home to was a barstool and some kitchen chairs.

Still, that kept me busy for a couple of days, until I ran out of "setting up" to do. I went to Panera for coffee and spent a few hours there, endlessly checking my email in case Steve was able to write or the Army was finally sending out specific information. After that, though, I literally could not think of anything else to do besides wait indefinitely. So I spent the next two days watching "The Office" on DVD, which kept my mind off waiting and wondering what to expect. It had been 10 months since I'd last seen Steve in person, and though we were able to talk on the phone regularly, I couldn't help worrying that it might take us some time to get used to being together again. Would we have an awkward reunion?

Around noon on April 14 my phone rang; it was the Army, letting me know that Steve's redeployment ceremony would be held at 0130 on April 15. "0130…0130…" I repeated, confused for a second, and then it struck me. "That's TONIGHT!" I shouted into the phone. "That's one-thirty in the morning – that means it's tonight!" I don't think the guy on the other end of the line was impressed with my deduction skills. But he confirmed that I needed to be at the redeployment ceremony site at 11:30pm that evening.

I really had no idea what to expect at the ceremony, and I had no idea what I was supposed to wear, so I was nervous about that on top of being anxious about seeing my fiancé for the first time in almost a year – not to mention the fact that he was returning from war, an experience I couldn't relate to.

When I arrived, bleachers had been arranged in a semicircle facing two large screens, which were playing "The Little Mermaid" for the kids. Wives were dressed in everything from jeans and grubby t-shirts to dresses and skirts, and I fell somewhere in the middle, so I was able to relax about that. When I got there the prescribed two hours early there were already more than a hundred people waiting. In addition to soldiers' wives there were parents, grandparents, fiancées, girlfriends, siblings and children. There were dozens of crying babies, and I wondered how many of them had never met their fathers before. I alternately sipped coffee and chewed mint gum as I waited for the ceremony to begin.

It finally started and after a few quick speeches, the soldiers began to file in. I had a pretty good view, being on an aisle in the middle of the bleachers, but I started to panic that I wouldn't recognize Steve when he walked in, since everyone seemed to look the same as they organized themselves into rows. I did recognize Steve, however, and waved, but he was soon swallowed up in formation. I stared hard at the guy standing in front of him so I would remember where he was standing. When all of the soldiers were in place the main speaker gave a few words, wrapped up quickly, and dismissed us to find our soldiers. I expected a lot of pushing and running and yelling, but it was surprisingly orderly, and I was able to get to Steve in less than a minute. Standing in front of him for the first time in so long, I suddenly felt shy, but it only lasted for a moment until he pulled me into a huge hug and kissed me. It was a purely joyful reunion – no awkwardness. And just like that, he was home, and the 15 long months of deployment were finally over.

That would be a good place to conclude with "happily ever after," but since I'm still an Army wife and will be for some time, the actual ending is: "…and the 15 long months of deployment were finally over. Until his next tour, that is."

But at least the Army's cut down deployments to no more than 12 months, so next time won't be quite as long.