It was still dark when the kids and I left to take IronRobert to the armory this morning. He and his fellow troops left today for (re)deployment to Iraq. They'll remain stateside for a couple months before they mobilize, but we won't be able to see him or visit. Seeing the soldiers all in their uniforms; their families up before the crack of dawn to say goodbye... was moving.
Actually, "moving" doesn't adequately describe it. But which words would? It's not easy to describe. You want to be cheerful and controlled, but all you really feel is scared and sad and ungrounded. And also enormously proud and thankful and angry and honored and impressed... and then you circle back to scared and sad and then your heart feels like it's being squashed and there's not quite enough oxygen in the room. We miss you already, friend. Please know we will be thinking of you always - everyday - and praying for your safety.
These are the two guys that will be working closely with Robert. I asked them to take care of him. If you pray, please add these two guys. I don't know their names, but if you just pray for "the two guys working with Robert," God will know who you mean. It sounds like a really interesting job, but it's dangerous and they need your thoughts and prayers. All the service men and women do.
We said goodbye and then the kids and I cried all the way to school.
On a brighter note, I pulled myself together and had a great meeting [when] at [where] with two [individuals] from ["and a smile"] about the [noun] . Hopefully I will have details to share in the next couple of weeks. One of the [adjective] [plural noun]s I dined with said this is like a marathon and I'm at mile 24. To those awesome friends who provided [prose] at a moment's notice, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. There is no one in the universe who has greater friends than I do, and I love you all so much!
Below is a group shot of dinner last night with IronRobert.
Have a Happy Valentine's Day everyone!