Headed Home

Headed Home

There's no better feeling than heading home. Whether it's after a short business trip or simply at the end of a long day, pulling in the driveway and seeing the buttery glow oozing from kitchen window is one that's tough to beat. I had been away on business for a couple of days. I was leaving Plattsburgh on my way to Wilton with that vision planted firmly in my brain. I turned the radio off so I might better absorb the beauty of the darkening Adirondack Mountains. It was a beautiful evening. The southbound traffic was scant. I was tired. I wished I could just snap my fingers and be at my backdoor. I took a few deep breaths and decided to just enjoy the ride. I began to think of how lucky I was. My wife was safe and comfortable at home. I know because we had spoken for a brief moment before we both headed home from work. She was 120 miles closer. I set the cruise control and watched the green mile-markers file by. The shadows of the high peaks framed the horizon. My mind wandered to a far off place. The thought of young soldiers stationed far from home began to flood my mind. All those men and women stationed in some hole of hell waiting anxiously for orders to pack. Many of them on their second and third tours of duty. How strong that desire to pull in the driveway must be for them. I salute those brave and resilient soldiers. I was gone for just one day, not for one-thousand days. We kept them away far too long on their business trip. I was horribly inconvenienced by having to sleep on a too spongey pillow. If they slept, it was in spurts. The loved one at home dozed light and edgy, always in fear of a knock on the door or a midnight phone call. I am fortunate. Most of you reading this are too. We take home for granted. We take going home much more so. I thank all men and women who serve. I wish we could all be home together--tonight.