Military homecomings are amazing and beautiful but can be extremely frustrating. You might have 2 weeks notice, you might have 24 hours. It might be night, it might be day. You might get to Thursday and be prepared only for it to move to Friday. Then Saturday.

It doesn’t matter though. Even if it’s pushed back, you know your soldier is on his way to you. He’s almost home.

You head out to the field. Try to get there at the perfect time…not too early, not too late. Texas weather can be hard to prep for.

You’re finally to the field, and you’ve lucked out with the awesome time of a 3:30 homecoming. Is that night? Is that day? Who cares?

Your soldier is on his way home.

The cool Texas breeze is much colder than you originally thought it would be. They can’t be much longer right?

It helps to listen to the excitement of crowd. There’s an unspoken bond within the members of the crowd who have soldiers coming home. It’s almost done. They’re almost here.

Looking around you, it’s easy to see that fellow wives and family members alike have a myriad of expressions on their face. Happiness. Excitement. Anxiety. Impatience.

You can barely feel your hands as the DJ announces the buses are on their way. Almost done. Almost there. The crowd around you jumps at every movement on the road in front of you. Almost there.

Finally you see the flashing lights of the MP car that signifies the buses are here. Your stomach drops and your heart speeds up. Can this really be it? Is this real?

The crowd screams around you; you join in. Come on, come on. Hurry up, hurry up!

Your husband is RIGHT there. You see the feet of the soldiers underneath the buses as they gather into formation. The DJ comes over the loudspeaker, asking for help in shouting to move the buses.

With all the might and strength and meaning you can muster, you hear yourself scream “MOVE. THAT. BUS. MOVE THAT BUS. MOVETHATBUS.”

The buses pull away and for a moment it seems like nothing is there.

There they are. There HE is. As the soldiers march forward, your heart beats faster. You want to throw up. Your stomach is packed with butterflies. Your heart swells with so much pride, you feel like you’re going to burst.

Words are said, but you don’t hear them. All your listening for is permission to charge the field. It feels like time is going in slow motion.

Finally. FINALLY you are dismissed to charge the field.

It’s REAL. He’s here.

The wind is forgotten, the cold is forgotten, distance, forgotten.

All that matters is finding that man in the sea of soldiers that is yours.

People reunite all around you. The moments are excruciating. Your friends are screaming your last name.

You look for any sign of your soldier. His features, the man that has been gone for over 8 months.

Finally in disbelief, you spot him.

Is that him?

Is this real?

Reality hits you as you crash in your soldier and wrap your arms around him.

Your world is whole once more.

No more waiting by the phone. No more tears. No more Skype. No more sleepless nights.

It’s OVER.

Welcome home SSG Dillon! Kelsi, I am so happy your family is back together again.