Lunchtime Passages

It’s good to take a break from work and go out to lunch. 

I rarely do that but yesterday I decided to get some fresh air and take a little ride to the nearest Chipotle’s.  I like their food.  Every now and then I have to take a break from it, so I pack my lunch for work which only lasts a week or two because I am not one of your run-of-the-mill great cooks.  Just the opposite! 

With the invention of the microwave my life blossomed.  “You can cook what in how many minutes?  Really?  No way!!  Really?!”  That little machine became my best friend.  I’ve named my newest microwave ‘Stinga’ which is a little word jumble for Giants.  Go Giants! 

Anyway, lunch, yesterday, yes now I remember.  So, I was in line at Chipotle’s, the long line, thinking of nothing, and when I returned from ‘Nothingland’ I realized there were a couple of US soldiers in line ahead of me wearing their fatigues.  One looked to be about 25 years old, maybe 6 feet tall, nice looking.  As I watched him patiently waiting to place his order I envisioned him in a foreign country, heat in the 100 degree range, his helmet on, walking down a dusty road lined by sand colored buildings on either side as he scoured the windows and rooftops for snipers, and my heart went out to him.  It’s hard to think of our soldiers, men and women, being in harm’s way.  I wanted to go over and give him a hug, a motherly hug, and tell him that we all appreciate what he’s doing and would rather he wasn’t going, and to keep safe.  I also wanted to reassure him that we would take care of him when he returns by providing healthcare, housing, you name it.  But I stayed in line.

Then my eyes fell on the other soldier.  He looked to be in his mid-thirties, also about 6 feet tall, with a more rugged look about him.  He had stripes on his sleeves but I had no idea what they meant.  I didn’t care, either.  I also envisioned him on that same hot, dusty road, with his uniform, Helmut and rifle, and I wanted to go over and give him a hug.  Not quite a motherly hug, though, as he was older, but a hug nonetheless.  Maybe with an extra little squeeze.  Maybe lay my head on his shoulder and look up at him and say, “I’m here for you.”  But I stayed in line.

I stayed in line and thought of the horrors of war, the sadness of seeing a son, daughter, husband, wife, brother, etc. go off to war.  War is not good, but the current reality is that we have soldiers all over the world, some in extremely dangerous places, and we need to make sure they come back to find they are valued.  We need to make sure government and society doesn’t forget them when they return.  This is Important!

How will we go about making sure this happens?  I’ll have to look into that.

In the meantime, I’m getting out of line and going back to Daydream Land to check in on the other soldier….  Ha-Ha… Hey!  I’m old, not dead!