Home

He has been home 4 days. It seems longer. The last week was like waiting for a baby to be born. There's a due date, but it's an estimate. We got word from him and others where he was and what route he might come and when he might show up, but nothing was 100% for sure.

When he called in the morning and said he was in his house, I made a lot of noise when I got off the phone. Woo hoo and yippee and thank You, Lord type noise.

His wife had to work, so we hung out. The dogs played together. He looks good, lean and strong and healthy. He says it feels weird, probably like you felt when we moved back from West Africa, Mom. From poverty all around you into the lap of luxury in the USA.

Yes, yes, the relief is settling in and it feels really, really good.

We talked about the war. My observation is that no matter how it looks now and how hopeless it seems, we do not know what tomorrow holds. We cannot see the future and things quite outside our imagination can happen that would change things. I do not expect this necessarily, but I have learned this from my own little life. It adds a higher perspective to all the political arguments I listen to all the time. Not to be fatalistic. Make good decisions that will strengthen my family and my country and the world, but do what I can, and leave what's out of my control right where it is: out of my control.