Today was a day reminiscent of the first evening I spent in the state where my college of veterinary medicine is located. I remember pulling back the curtains in the hotel room, and see the sign for Interstate 35 nearly bent in half from the ferocious winds. After living in the state for three years, it became apparent to me that this natural phenomenon was not a singular event. In fact, it seems that high wind events are more like the norm in that particular state, especially in the spring.
I supervised (cannot really say "taught" this time, because it was not) kindergartners in class today for a couple hours. When I left the building, it was all I could do to stay standing upright. My khakis were blown tightly around my legs, and the hood of my sweater, peeking out from underneath my jacket, whipped around to the front of my body. Had I been wearing ruby slippers and not Dr. Marten sandals, I might have just taken a trip to Kansas.
While the weather is nice in terms of temperature for the first week of December, the overall weather scene was rainy and gloomy. My mood was about as bright as the weather. I came up from the basement to interact with the other humans in the house for the evening. There was nothing exciting going on upstairs. I found myself bored, and looking for something to do.
I was minding my own business, chatting with a friend, when my cell phone rang. It seems it does this rather infrequently, so I was surprised. But the surprise awaiting me on the other end of the line was far more than I had expected. The phone rang the familiar tune of "Mission Impossible." Since the ringer is normally set to Coldplay's "Clocks," I knew the caller was not just anyone. Sure enough, it was BT. I picked up the phone in excitement, sure I was not reading the caller ID correctly. As soon as I got outside onto the patio (where I get cell phone reception -- hey Verizon, I CAN'T hear you now!), I found that it indeed was BT. After four months of serving in Iraq with the U.S. Army, he's home on U.S. soil. After being home for three days, he was able to turn on his cell phone, and he called me. I can only describe the feeling of knowing that he's back here, and safe, as overwhelming joy.
So, one of my friends is home. Of course, that still leaves MP over there, a new arrival. Just as I prayed every day for BT, my prayers for MP will not cease for the entire time that he's gone. So, welcome home BT, and good luck MP.
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