I lived in England in 1973 and 1974. My first husband was in the Air Force and stationed over there. When he was transferred stateside to his next duty station, my baby and I flew to West Virginia to spend Christmas with my family. When I flew over to England, I traveled commercial. But when I came home, I flew military transport.
There were several people from the base he was stationed at who were traveling with me. Another mother with her two little ones. Two young Airmen. We traveled for three days before I arrived…exhausted…at my mom’s house. The first day was spent driving in a small VW van to a base up north. The second day was spent waiting…waiting…waiting for a plane to be ready. Once we boarded, we sat on the tarmac for six whole hours before we took off.
My baby was using cloth diapers, and you can well imagine, I was running out of clean ones before I got home to West Virginia. She was also drinking formula that I had to carry with me. She slept all the way across the Atlantic. I however, did not. By the time we began our final descent at Fort Dix, I was becoming really emotional. I cannot properly express how I felt when I looked out the windows of the plane and saw the American flag flying over American soil. I felt so proud…so relieved…so honored…so exhausted.
Yesterday was Pearl Harbor Day. There are fewer and fewer people still living who were there that day or who listened to the radio broadcasts stateside. I know what I felt combing home. I can’t imagine what people who have experienced war must feel when their feel finally touch the soil of “home”. I know it’s a day late, but I would like to honor those who served…and continue to serve. Those who spend the holidays away from their loved ones so that we may enjoy the privileges we have here in this country. Thank you. God bless you and your loved one. ❤️
“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.””
Genesis 28:15 ESV