MY FORK |
October 30, 2006
Name: CH (CPT) Brad P. Lewis
Posting date: 10/30/06
Returned from: Iraq
Hometown: Sacramento, CA
Milblog url: http://chaplain.blogspot.com
I can't imagine that there is anyone over here that does not want to go home. It's very fulfilling to be a part of something so big and to play a role in the freeing of an entire nation. But it's like Dorothy said, "There's no place like home." They treat us pretty well here, but there are some things that just can't be replaced. As I sit down for meals and talk with soldiers about life, service, home, girls, boys, families, etc., everyone misses something. For one it's coffee out of his favorite mug. For another it's the morning newspaper. One guy will miss the smell of his children or the taste of mom's lasagna. Everyone misses something. Everyone looks forward to getting back to that something. Everyone dreams of normalcy. That's where the sacrifice of these great people is most clearly seen -- in the little things they willingly give up, to live and work in a rat hole. And they don't complain or blame or whine. They just keep fighting and working and dreaming of going home. These are truly great people.
Like the next guy, I too want to go home and hold my wife and my kids, to sip coffee from my own mug, to work in my yard. But having been deployed to several locations in a very short period I miss one thing more than any other. For me, plastic is the problem. It's those silly plastic forks with the hollow tines, where everything you eat gets jammed in there and it just feels funny in your mouth. I miss real silverware. Ah the feel of smooth aluminum or steel or tin or whatever they make silverware out of (maybe its silver). I'm no utensilogist, but I know a good fork when I see one. Knives and spoons are not an issue. Forks are what I miss. Like I said, I'm no different. Just like the next guy...kinda.
You see, unlike the next guy, I have the perfect spouse. She knows me, and loves me anyway. She's perfect. So, recently I was home just long enough to drive my kids to school a couple of times and kiss my bride. And just before taking off again for parts unknown, she bought me a fork! It's not a very fancy one. Neither is it a girly fork. It's perfect. It has a nice big handle that’s a manly black and silver; it’s easy to hold on to, with perfectly straight and smooth tines. I love my fork. So now when I go to eat breakfast or lunch or dinner or just an afternoon snack, I reach into my pocket and pull out my little friend...and we enjoy a meal together. There's no place like home, even when it's the size of a fork.