3 months, finally over.

It was a hot Auguest evening in 2001 as a walked into the empty white gym awaiting my dad's return. The smell of a freshly waxed floor overwhelmed me as I walked in. It reminded me of how it smells when I step out of an airplane and get that first intake of the outside air, it was friendly and familiar. I could hear all the different families chatting in suspense. I heard whining babies because it was well past their usual bedtime and their mothers quietly hushing them. I look behind me at all the women holding banners reading things like "Welcome home!" and "We missed you!". I could taste the flavor-filled Juicy Fruit gum my mom had just handed me. My mouth started to go dry with anticipation as I turned my head to face the corner of the gym as the door pushed open. One by one soldiers dressed in light shades of camoflouge began to file in. I remember hearing the crowd's booming cheers elevate as each family spotted their loved one(s). I rapidly scan the soldiers for my dad. I finally separate him from the others, he was much tanner than he was before but I recognized him in a heart beat. I could feel my face light up as I catch his eye. His neatly pressed shirt wrinkled as I hugged him. My sister, being only about three years old, just stood there for a minute, unsure of who he was. My mom walked over to hug her husband, by this time my sister began to realize who he was and he lifted her up into his arms to carry her. Holding my dad's hand, we walked back to the car as he began to tell me stories of all the things he saw in the middle east. My dad was finally home.