When the levee breaks

This morning in the cold and dark, I hugged and kissed my sweetheart one final time, told him to be good and to do good, and sent him to war. I started to well up, but he asked me not to cry, so I didn’t.

I got back to our lodging, packed up his things and mine, and got on the road home. Still no tears. It was a silent trip. I didn’t call anyone. I didn’t have NPR on. I didn’t play any of my carefully chosen CDs. I didn’t even sing to myself. Just drove, dry-eyed, until I couldn’t drive anymore.

A pleasant surprise in the southern Illinois town where I stopped was an Italian deli a few blocks from my hotel. I walked over there to stretch my legs and pick up some dinner, and because the proprietor was friendly and probably bored, he struck up a conversation as he made my sandwich.

I hadn’t planned on telling him my life story, but he kept asking questions, and pretty soon he knew where I’d been and why. He talked sympathetically about how hard it is for the families left behind, even though I assured him I was as prepared as I could be.

He finished up my sandwich, I fished out my wallet, and he informed me that he was not taking my money. “That’s crazy talk!” I said. “You have to make a living.” He kept refusing payment, and I finally gave up. Then I broke down bawling.

I was so embarrassed; the first time I cried all day, and I did it in front of a kind stranger. I apologized through my sniffles, and he told me not to worry. “If you get a chance to talk to your husband, tell him an old burned-out Marine says ‘Semper fi.’ ” Of course that started me crying all over again.

On the weepy walk back to the hotel, I was ashamed not only because I was blubbering in public (Iowegians don’t do that!), but because I had accepted the free food. I have a decent job. I have 6 dollars for a sandwich.

But I don’t think this was about whose business is doing better, or whether I was wrong to take charity. It was one person trying to show, in the most tangible way he could, some encouragement for one sometimes scared, often crazy Army wife. It would have been wrong not to accept that.