Daddy's Affection

RemembeRED prompt this week:

Choose a time when either the abundance or lack of affection (either by you or someone else) stands out, and show us. Bring us to that time. Help us feel what you felt.

Daddy could be a little strict, especially with the boys. But he had a way of smoothing it over. Bear hugging. Whisker rubbing. Hand holding.  Cheek kissing.  Affection.

I can’t remember anyone he wasn’t affectionate with. My brothers knew to give him a hug and kiss before bed. And mom, always greeted with warm touches and sweet kisses.  

This affection always calmed my fears, eased my hurts and took away the tears. It was never truer on that one day when everything changed for a little girl….

It was mid February and the chill in the air made me walk a little faster up the steep hill, once the bus spilled me into the driveway. Entering into the warmth of home I was taken back. Mom would always be waiting there, but today stood my sister who lived across the street. My look of question was answered with a guarded answer, “they would be home soon…appointment…they will explain”. The chill in the air from outside seemed to have drifted in with me.

It wasn’t long before mom…and dad came in. What was Daddy doing home? 

Something was different, a space between them I had never seen. Until that day. Somehow hidden, from a little girl’s view.  Mom’s face seemed twisted, her mind distant.

It was Daddy who took me by the hand. Brought me with him into that corner reclining chair. He sank in and brought me with him. The arms wrapped around, and his cheek touched mine. Fingers ran through his little girl’s hair. And with a shaky voice he told me what had happened today.

A divorce. An end.

And then he sobbed and I sobbed with him. He held me closer and kissed my forehead. Assured me of his love and how I would see him lots.

I couldn’t tell you what happened next. Or even my words with mom. I remember that moment, his tears, mixed with mine and the affection. It helped with the pieces of the puzzle trying to fit into the wrong spaces. The shattered reflection I had always seen.

Daddy had a way of smoothing it over. Bear hugging. Whisker rubbing. Hand holding.  Cheek kissing.  Affection.

Bootcamp Graduation (attempt 2)

This is in response to a prompt from RemembeRED. The prompt was to write about graduation. This is my 2nd piece, my first did not meet the short length of 600 words.

The ending of a journey... graduation.  Some journeys are short and simple, others full of growth and span long lengths of time. As a mom I have experienced a few; preschool, kindergarten, middle school, high school, college, and military.  Each a marked place in time, full of promise and hope ahead.

Last summer my baby boy of 22 years old, Greg, had made a commitment and left for boot camp. I remember the quiet ride home with his fiance, Samantha, his dad and myself. It is always hard letting go, and I had made this same trip with my other son, who left for the Air Force. It is a mixture of emotions; sadness, pride and hope.

I remember that first call home, he sounded so scared, so worried...thinking on the changes in his life since he signed on the dotted line. But he knew he had responsibilities, and he had to follow through.
So over the next months we mailed many cards and letters and ran for the mailbox to hear news from him. Some weeks seemed to drag by slowly, like honey on the coldest winter day.
When we began to make the plans for the trip to his graduation, time suddenly buzzed with excitement. Reservations and flights were scheduled.  The aniticipation continued to build.
We arrived with others.  Boys and girls from all over our country would be graduating that morning, and families were converging.
Sunshine just peeking up, we headed out to the parking lot to meet my oldest with his family. He stepped out in his uniform. The vision of him in uniform always makes my heart skip a beat. We have some quick greetings and hugs as we climb in the vehicles to caravan over.
Past the gate we meet up with all the family and wait in line some more. The expectation of the day continues to build as we look around.
 We find Samantha and her mom, she is shaken with elation, emotion to match mine.
Finally in the bleachers we take in the sights and sounds. Eyes on all the families, wondering about each of their stories.  We keep watch on all the setting up, watching the films of scenes from bootcamp days. The grandsons distract my attention some, lots of hugs and kisses, and listening to their stories of their road trip.
Finally...the drum begins the beat. The noise in the bleachers change. All eyes move to the door ahead, an immense garage door. Around us men and woman stand at attention. The drum comes closer and closer. And suddenly, the door opens up and as it raises higher, we see the sight of their feet marching in precision to the beat. White legs emerge. Standing straight and tall, heads held high... there are our boys and girls! The lump in my chest moves to my throat. The tears that were hidden come from behind.  And as they march in with the sun behind them, you can feel all around me the pride and love we have for these young men and women. It is a moment when those doors open I could never explain. As I look forward I catch sight of my son. I look beside me, my oldest at attention and saluting. Another amazing moment for a mom...

A beautiful ceremony continues and we swarm like bees when it is done. A sea of sailors to swim through to find the right one. But mine stands 6' 2" above the crowd. I wait as he greets his love first, and then it is Mom. My arms fold around my baby boy, now a man.