Welcoming the 134th Medical Unit, 2006, by Marie Unternahrer

From MemoryArchive

Who: Marie Unternahrer
What: Welcoming the 134th Medical Unit
When: October 2006
Where: Washington, Iowa

Moments are brief periods within a life time. For me, it is an autumn, rainy night at 7:05.

Earlier that evening, at around 6:30, my mother and I drive around the whole town of Washington franticly pounding welcome home signs into the cold, hard ground. As we attempted this task, we kept warm with our bulky winter coats on. I have two layers of fuzzy gloves on to protect my hands from chapping up in the gusty wind. We can’t wait to get warm once again.

My mother and I arrive at the high school gymnasium and it is packed full of people waiting patiently. We spot our family on the south side of the gym with three rows of saved seats. I sit down beside my cousin who is taller than me. I can feel already that the rough, plastic bleachers are going to be uncomfortable.

I look around the gym. Banners are displayed throughout this crowded area with colors of red, white, and blue, representing what we stand for and who we thank. As I direct my eyes to the outer door, I hear a thunderous applause. It's the Channel 9 News.

People of every sort are cheering. Delight forms within families and friends; especially me. Suddenly, an array of tan strikes the gym. Searching for my father, a touch of a salty tear trickles down my face. I search for lost memories. I can’t wait to fabricate new. I feel my heart skip a few beats. My stomach tingles and the muscles tighten.

Everyone in the gym springs up from their seat to give a standing ovation to the troops of the 134th. A few loud whistles are given here and there. My mom shoots up into the air with excitement; for my father is just standing only a yard and a half away. I stop for a second and just gaze at the back of my mom’s head. How did she do it? Not being able to touch, kiss, or even hug her honey. I sure couldn’t. It’s great to see her blissful again.