Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Today...not an oridnary day

I drove over to my old hood not really realizing that I was actually saying good-bye. In my mind, it's just another rare occassion where the family gets together. This time was very different though. I pulled up in the drive way directly across the street from the house I grew up in and parked there. All the other parking spaces were filled by my other siblings. Everyone was sitting there still on the porch. I walked up to the house and took my seat on the porch with everyone else. It was The Glenn tradition as usual, where all the kids joke and laugh about how mom and dad use to whip us and reprimand us growing up...of course we laugh about that now. Timothy was always the one with the funniest stories. He was telling us about his last whippen he got from Mom...when he was fourteen. Mom was so frustrated because she found out the extention cord didn't hurt him anymore. lol Hearing him tell his stories and jokes made the occassion all the more sad because within a few minutes of our short gathering together, he would take that trip away from us...for how long, we don't know. There were uncomfortable spurts of quietness, unusual for our family. But everyone knew why. Any moment now everyone would have to say goodbye. 7:00 pm rolled around and shortly after, the white car pulled up and found a parking space a few feet down from the house. Everyone sat quiet, trying to swallow what was about to happen. Out stepped this tall, slim gentlemen in a crisp white uniform, walking ceremoniously down the street towards our direction. All the neighbors watched to see where this guy could possibly be going. Sure enough, he turned up our walkway, and my brother invited him up on the porch to meet his family. All of us were there, from Dad all the way down to baby Christopher, who just learned to walk. He went around the porch one by one starting with Charity. The gentlemen brought out his best handshake, knowing how hard it must have been for us to be experiencing this. He got to my mom and she said, "Five years ago I wouldn't have been able to shake your hand." The gentlemen didn't respond. He could only respect and silently accept a mother's bond to her son. He got to my dad. Dad stood up and shook his hand. Then he got to Tricie. She couldn't even look at the gentlemen. There his hand was in front of her. I guess he thought everything was ok once he got through the mom and dad. He asked Tricie, "You're not going to shake my hand?" Tricie could only shake her head "No." The gentlemen respectfully and humbly retreated. Then started the tears. Tim was standing right next to me. I figured somebody had to be the first to do it. I leaned over and put my arms around him with tears in my eyes and said "Goodbye Tim." And the tears fell. Mom was next and he went all the way around and when he got to Tricie, she was so full of tears...I don't even remember them hugging. The babies even started crying. He walked off the porch with only one small briefcase, enough to fit his bible and notebook and a few other books to take with him, and his NAVY hat. Dad walked off the porch behind him. He got in the car with the gentlemen, drove past and waved good-bye. Dad turned back and walked up the porch with tears I had never seen in his eyes like that before. I couldn't even imagine how he must have felt about his only son leaving for the NAVY. Who among us would have ever thought that he would make a turn like this? I think I can speak for us all when I say...not one of us. I drove away with tears in my eyes and realized that I had forgotten to tell him I loved him, and wondering when I would be able to tell him those words to his face again? I don't know. I am proud of my brother. One day he will stand tall like the gentlemen in the white uniform and have more jokes and stories to tell us when we see him again. That's something, I think, we will always appreciate and miss about Timothy. So, I guess the moral of this is to note that you never know what direction life will take you in. But in my earnest prayer and desire, I hope that God is the one directing the steering wheel. My brother is a survivor. I believe he will be alright.

From the heart:
Ms. Pinky

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That message was from the heart. I almost cried myself. I had no idea he was going to the Navy. God takes care of his people and he will take care of Tim.

Faith said...

Thanks L.A. Keep him in your prayers.