Blue Monday

First of all, I pay tribute to those who gave the ultimate gift on this date in 1941. And then I celebrate two of the unsung Soldiers in my life: Annie Benecke, ATC, and Noreen Arao, DI. Wish I knew where they are. I’d send them thanks for enriching my life.

All the troops from our brigade are home now, and will enjoy a Christmas with their loved ones and a tree in their own home instead of the tiny plastic ones we wives shipped that could not lift their spirits very much but spread as much cheer as possible in the tiny tents and trailers on that sand-blown patch of ground.

Sitting at the party yesterday, I asked Jim about his tree. He said he decorated the tiny green plastic thing with the tiny multi-colored plastic ornaments I had sent. The guys in his shop enjoyed it, but mostly in silence, sometimes just lightly running a loving finger over the white plastic star on the top, not saying anything, for to give voice to thoughts is to make them real. After the season was over, Jim stowed it away in his trailer. But when he was packing up his stuff to ship home, he again set the tree on a table in the shop, leaving it for the troops that were replacing his unit. I suppose it sits there today, doing nothing to warm their feet, but maybe warming their hearts just a little.

After we got home yesterday afternoon, Jim shed his uniform and quickly was back into sweats, then assumed the position on the living room chair, cup of coffee in one hand, paperback book in the other. Within an hour, he was snoozing away. A few minutes later, I noticed KTT, on the rug just in front of the coffee table, batting around what looked like either a very little snake or a very long worm. When I tried to get it, he refused to let go, burying it under his paws and daring me to move a step closer. So I took Jim's shoe, which was conveniently located on the floor next to the ottoman, and playfully distracted him long enough for me to pick up the green thing.

Neither snake nor worm. Evidently kitty had gone into Jim's bathroom and seen the pile of dirty uniforms on the floor, along with all the other military accessories, and found a boot blouser.

I retrieved the other one from the floor, and placed the two of them on the counter, ready for the next drill weekend. Came back to the living room to see KTT's nose buried in the shoe, trying to find the "toy." He may not be very smart, but he is quite observant. And, come to think of it, quite logical.

The flag that flew over their Iraqi base is now in a wooden case hanging proudly in full view on the wall just under the stairs. The awards and certificates signed by President Bush are stowed carefully in the plastic box with all the other awards and certificates earned during Jim’s long military career. And there's still the pile of dirty uniforms on the bathroom floor, his boots are under the bedroom chair, and his fleece and watch cap are still on the ottoman, where he threw them last night. But that’s ok.

The first Monday in December may be a Blue Monday for some, but for me it is the best. Because this year my Soldier is home. With me.