Pro Patria

I could feel my heart flutter as I pulled my coat tighter around me. It was a slightly rough short wool coat, heavy enough to warm me during a January in the South, but that’s not why I chose it. It was because of the color; I wanted him to be able to see me from far off, to be able to say, “There she is, in the robin’s egg blue coat.”1

He wouldn’t really say that. He doesn’t really know what robin’s egg blue is, but this is what I was thinking as I felt the coat’s coarse texture brush across my cheek.2

I was already getting too warm. Standing outside waiting for them to arrive, I thought I would get cold. Underneath my bright coat I had on a cream sweater dress and matching cream cashmere gloves that I had bought specifically for this occasion. “He hasn’t seen me in so long,” I justified to myself as I purchased the new dress and threw in the gloves as a last-minute addition. I wanted to look perfect, just as he would have remembered me.3

Suddenly the crowd became hushed. Families holding up signs with names written across them eagerly craned their necks to see who would be coming off the first bus. Would it be him? Would he be the first to arrive? Probably not. There are so many coming today that I’ll probably have to wait a while.4

“I’m too warm,” I thought, as I finally decided to take off the coat. Just as I had taken my arm out of the first sleeve, the group next to me began cheering. As I looked up, the air became alive with waving signs and yellow ribbons. An older woman ran forward and hugged the first one coming off the bus, while the other members of her group trailed behind. I felt a lump in my throat. “Soon it will be my turn,” I thought. “Finally it will be my turn.”5

My thoughts raced as snippets from the past year flashed through my mind like fireflies in a summer's night. 6

“They’re sending me away again,” he had said. 7

I had immediately begun to cry. “Again? But you said that it probably wouldn’t happen!”8

“I said that there was a chance, since they already sent me once. Just a chance."9

“How can this happen?” I sobbed, “We just got married… It’s not fair. I can’t be away from you for so long! I can’t do it. And… and what if something happens?”10

It was the question we both dreaded.11

“It will be OK,” he had promised. “We did it before and we’ll do it again.” The tears continued to rush down my cheeks, uncomfortably warm like my robin’s egg blue coat that now rested in my arms.12

He was right. We could do it, and we did do it. Fifteen months apart and today it will be over. 13

We had been apart for our entire first year of marriage. We had missed the our first anniversary, an occasion for which we had saved the top of our wedding cake. But when the date rolled around I had to share it with my younger sister. I was surprised that a frozen cake tasted so good when thawed after a year, but it was no comfort for eating it without him. Just picturing that anniversary had made me cry that entire month before it even came around; the image of me eating wedding cake alone was too much to bear.14

“OK, you need to stop thinking that way,” my sister had said. “We’ll thaw it, get some champagne, and celebrate how far you’ve come. Six months down and nine to go.”15

But now there were no more months, just minutes or seconds to go. Periodically more and more buses were rolling up, their occupants slowly pouring out, each greeted by a burst of cheering and waving of signs. Mandy squeezed my hand. I knew she was just as anxious as I was. He was her only son, after all, and judging by how much she cried at the wedding, I knew she could possibly have missed him more than I did. 16

But I would get to run up to him first. I would be the first one to hold him when it was our turn to cheer. 17

The buses seemed to take forever, but the crowd was persistently enthusiastic. Even those families who already received their loved ones stayed to cheer for the rest of us. This time a woman came off the bus and a child that couldn’t have been any more than two ran up to hug her. She scooped him up in a two arm hug and reached another arm out to hug the man that came running up after him as she stood crying. The lump in my throat grew. “I’m so lucky,” I thought. “I can’t imagine what they’ve been through.”18

Just then I looked over and saw a sweetly familiar face in a sea of strangers dressed in camouflage, as sweet as that first piece of wedding cake that we had fed to each other. He looked exactly the same, except for maybe a little more tan. He had the biggest smile as he stretched both arms out wide: it was our turn. This time the air was alive with cheers for me and yellow ribbons for him.19

I ran up to him. The real him, not a picture next to my bed or a muffled voice on a telephone. He had me in his arms, lifted up so high that my feet didn’t touch the ground anymore. His rough uniform pressed against my cheek. “Never let me go,” I whispered.20

We kissed while my feet still dangled in the air. When he finally pulled away, he set me down and put his soft hand to my face.21

“I told you we’d be OK.”

Author notes

Category: Adult Short Story

This story is told from my older sister's point of view. Her husband served in the Army and was deployed to Iraq twice. He came home this January, and they are officially starting married life!

She and I lived together while he was away, and yes, we did eat her wedding cake on her first year anniverary. Also, I really wanted to have that blue coat of hers.

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Comments

1 - 17 of 17
  • Adele Ellen Bakker
    July 6

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    Great story

    Told with real emotion but not OTT. The picture you create is very vivid - I can definitely picture that blue coat. I hope he does not have to go back again


  • TheWanderingRat
    June 29

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    Fantastic!

    The only thing about this story better than the ending was finding out that was a true story


  • therenaissancegirl gold member
    June 27
    Edit | Reply
    Aww


  • BigSouth
    June 26
    Edit | Reply
    this was absolutely amazzing.
    i can just imagine the heart-break of having to let him go...
    but wooohoo after learning this was real life...dang kudos to your sister lol

    shes my new hero

    amazzing write ^_^


    • Barmiddo
      June 29
      Edit | Reply
      I told her that she was someone's hero, and she was definitely touched. Thanks for the comment!

      ps- her husband says you rock!


      • BigSouth
        June 29
        Edit | Reply
        awww well im glad lol
        haha and tell him i said thanks


  • ArtistoLeVerse
    June 26
    Edit | Reply
    this was amazing, so sweet and heatr-warming.
    thank you for entering it in my contest.


  • rockerkiti
    June 26
    Edit | Reply
    Aww, this is amazing! this is so sweet..


  • Secret.Admirer
    June 25

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    Really Great! I love stories with a happy ending!!! Great ending loved it!!! Good luck in my contest!

  • Marta gold member
    June 25

    Edit | Reply
    Not normally the kind of story that I read but since you featured it I took a chance and liked it. Nicely done. Well written.

    beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.


  • Cupcake14
    June 25
    Edit | Reply
    Aww...it's a wonderful story. You really described the emotions well. At one point I feared that the husband was dead, but thank goodness, they could finally re-unite. What does 'Pro Patria' mean by the way?

    • Barmiddo
      June 25
      Edit | Reply
      It's a Latin phrase that loosely means "For one's country". I wanted something patriotic that didn't give everything away, and I happened to use another Latin phrase for my other story, so it just fit.

      Thanks for being my first commenter! I'm interested to know..at which point in the story did you first figure out he was a soldier?


      • Cupcake14
        June 25
        Edit | Reply
        Um, i could be wrong, but you know, i just felt he was a soldier...getting sent away and everything.

        • Barmiddo
          June 25
          Edit | Reply
          You catch on quickly! I was trying to make it a teeny bit mysterious, with the first clue at "yellow ribbons". I wonder if I changed it to "I have to go again" instead of being sent away... would mystery make it better or just confusing?

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