Coming back from IA

One of Zac's co-workers returned from six months in Iraq the other day. He's actually been gone longer than that, since he had to spend three months on the mainland going though training before he left. Everyone here was looking forward to having him home, no one more so than his wife, with whom I'm good friends. She asked me if I would like to join her at the gate to welcome him home. I declined at first thinking that their first moments together again should just be the two of them. She insisted that it was okay, and that she wanted me there. I realized at that point I could also play the role of 'photographer' for them, so I agreed to accompany her. Zac also came to the gate, representing their office.

It's quite a thing to go to the gate to meet someone, nowadays. I remember being a kid and going to meet people out at the gates at MSP all the time. The metal detectors were all the way down at the beginning of each concourse, and you didn't need a ticket to go through them. It was common to be standing there with a big sign when they came off the plane. After 9/11 everything changed. Yes, security is probably better now, but the airport experience is much worse off. Once upon a time you could go with your friend to MSP, have them check in and then the two of you could proceed into the terminal and sit down and have a last meal together at one of the restaurants. Now you have to wave at them as they go through the security gate and grab your own Cinnabon on the way home by yourself. There's no waiting out delays with them, no excited kids with their faces pressed up against the glass watching the plane pull into the gate. Now you're stuck meeting people in the baggage claim, which is lame. People are always very happy to be getting off the stuffy, cramped plane. That's when you want to hug them. No one is happy at the baggage claim. Ever - no joy allowed. The baggage claim is not the right place to warmly great someone.

All this was in the back of my mind as my friend, Zac and I headed to the USO at HNL (Honolulu's airport code) to sign in. I was delighted at the prospect of actually going to the gate to receive someone home. After we got our paperwork from the USO, we headed up to the airline that the husband was coming in on. They "checked us in" and gave us pseudo-boarding passes. We went through security and headed to his arrival gate. And waited. And waited. Thanks to the snow in the Chicago area his flight had been delayed, but thankfully not cancelled. At that time I was really glad that Zac and I had gone with her because I believe she would have been bouncing off the walls if she had been sitting there by herself for 90 minutes.

Well, not quite by herself. There was another wife waiting for her Navy sailor to be coming home on the same flight. She, and her three daughters, were anxious for Daddy to be home. After watching the three girls, ages six, four and two I'd guess, I could see where the mom was desperately ticking off minutes until his arrival. Those girls had energy to spare. (While we waited the two-year-old managed to set off a type of fire-alarm by opening a defibrillator case on the wall - apparently the same little girl had set off a fire alarm in an elevator the day before. I laughed, because they weren't my kids.) The girls were dressed up in their best red, white and blue dresses and had each made a "welcome home" sign. We talked to the girls and their mother off and on, especially as the arrival grew closer.

The arrival gate was actually fairly full of people who would be embarking the plane once it was fueled and cleaned up for it's return trip to Chicago. Many people made comments about how they were happy for our family member's/friend's service and safe return. Everyone in the waiting area seemed pretty excited when the plane finally taxied up to the gate. (Mostly, I think, everyone wanted to see the little girls tackle their dad.) As each person came off of the plane we watched, waiting to see the camouflage-clad sailors. My friend's husband appeared first and was closely followed by the other sailor. There was a smattering of applause as the girls shrieked, "Daddy!" in unison. My friend hugged her husband while the other sailor embraced his family. I took photos. Eventually my friend let Zac and I hug her husband, but I wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't let go of him for quite a long while.

The four of us (and the other disembarked passengers) headed over to the baggage claim. When we walked through the doors, a whole host of Navy sailors were there to greet their comrades. There were noisemakers and applause and leis and hugs and a huge banner that read "welcome home". I took more pictures. It was a pretty fantastic event. I can't imagine what it's like for the Army and Marine families when their people come home. That must be one heckuva welcome.

It's quite possible that at some point Zac's name is going to get called to go on an IA (Individual Augment) to Iraq of Afghanistan. I'm not really looking forward to that. And in about 18 months he'll probably be assigned to a ship, meaning semi-regular deployments to sea for 4-8 months at a time. I'm not really looking forward to that either. But then again, why would I? Shocking as it may sound, not only do I love my husband, but I like him too. When he's not around life is not nearly as much fun.

But it's nice to know that if he does go on an IA, or when he goes on those deployments at sea, that there's a nice, established means of celebrating and appreciating him when he gets back. Besides me hugging and kissing him, that is. Sometime the line that I get fed about the Navy being a family gets a little hokey and a little propaganda-ish, but sometimes it is actually accurate. And on those days it's kind of neat.