It has been a long, long nine (ten?) years for all of us. I still can't quite believe it is over. I have prayed and begged and pleaded for this day. I've dreamt about it. I've cheered and sworn at people on TV about it: newscasters, political leaders, misguided activists, properly-guided activists, comedians, pundits.
And then President Obama finally said that it was done. That we are done with that mess. (Okay, those weren't his exact words.) The rest are coming home, and no new ones need to go. Which of course means that my husband and his co-workers are not going over there after all. Can I get an alleluia?
Oh, my friends, this means so many things to me. Great excitement for those coming home soon. Safety. Relief. Gratitude for promises kept. Selfishly: an easier life for me. Anticipation for holidays with the whole family. Even a little panic: what will happen next?
Mostly, though, I am overjoyed. And teary.
I feel like we eked out of this one by the skin of our teeth. Not just not having to go on the RLBT, but also that of the 4,400 American souls we lost over there my husband wasn't one of them.
Now, if we could just wrap things up in that other place.