Part 7… TIME TO GO
Fall is my favorite time of year. Boyd and I celebrate our birthdays in September. We were married Oct. 9 and our son was born Oct.1. In the fall of 1967 Boyd came home from Fort Polk with a thirty day pass before he was deployed to Vietnam. How happy we were to be together! The cool crisp air, trees beginning to change color, wiener roasts and applesauce making were my happy fall things to do. We would get in our Mustang and enjoy our favorite spots. We loved being outside and in Midwest farm country there were lots of spots to hike.
My aunt and uncle ran an ice cream and sandwich spot. They had a table in the back where food was prepared and family members would sit and visit as they worked. They were known for yummy pork tenderloin sandwiches. My uncle would cut an inch wide slice from the tenderloin, pound it until it was paper thin, bread it and drop it in the deep fryer. Yum, yum, add all the toppings and it said home to me.
We were determined to enjoy the time we had.
When October 1 arrived we should have been celebrating Little Boyd’s first birthday. I was thankful we were together and able to share our pain. Rest of the 30 day leave we were determined to enjoy the time we had.
We made plans for the year we would be apart. Before leaving he helped me move and get settled at my mother’s. I felt safer living with my mother. If he was killed, I wouldn’t be alone.
The day came for him to leave. I drove him to the airport. He left on a commercial flight. Supporting one another was very important to us. He felt guilty that he had to go and leave me to deal with the grief and fear. I was petrified he would die and I’d be alone. I don’t remember crying. He remembers waving as he boarded the plane. I left the building and I stood outside watching the plane taxi down the runway heading into the sky and thought “he’ll either come home or he’ll die.”
He was allowed to call me one last time from Seattle, Washington. It was a brief conversation. What does one say other than I love you? Hanging up the phone I wondered if I would ever hear his voice again.
My son was gone. My husband was gone.