The Long White Line and Those Smiling Faces
At any time you can walk the pier and see, smiling faces, arms flailing, babies crying, children searching the horizon. Everyone’s eyes glued to the sea, waiting, watching, and searching for that long white line. Patiently we search the horizon, our hearts beating within our chests. The sun is just coming up; it’s the beginning of a new day. It has been too long; letters have been to few and to far between. As a family we stand and wait for that long line of white to show upon the horizon. Some-one hollers and then another. Tears fall, flailing arms, we move closer to the dock, not knowing which pier to congregate around. We wait patiently, our hearts throbbing so loud, you would think the person standing next to you could hear it.
My eyes strain, I see them, the long white line. Our flag flutters in the morning breeze, I move closer almost touching the person next to me. My son is just two weeks old. My heart has grown stronger as being separated has made me that way. The perfume I took a bath in that morning is a reminder of the many letters I sent out to sea every day, writing out my heart. Telling of a love so deep so hidden so lost within my being. I miss you it cries, do you miss me? Our son was born while you were away. He looks like you. Will you want to hold our son? I hold him gently in my arms. He is dressed just like his Daddy. Will you be home this time for a little longer?
My heart is beating faster, as the ship pulls up to the dock, screams are heard from aboard the ship, and from along the side of her bow, the long white line glows in the morning sun. We see each other and I melt, I turn so you can see your son, and I wait. My arms ache to be held, to feel your lips once more. For eight months you have been so far away. I watch the movement aboard the ship as she docks and I hear the whistle as it is blown. I wait as others do. Soon, but not soon enough, you and the others in your starched white uniforms will walk to the off ramp and down those steps that lead to me, your son and home. First you have to signal others to let them know they can come in, as your ship has docked, square away your work on the bridge, grab your duffle bag salute the ship and walk down those steps for a little while. For a little while you will be mine.
Off the ship, cameras flash, hugs and kisses are shared by many. Duffle bags lay on the ground as husbands squeeze their wives, children look on in wonderment, some too little to realize what is happening. Smiles have surfaced on the older children as they recognize their fathers. Words not spoken in months can be heard, “I love you,” “Daddy”, can we go home Honey? All those many months wash away, and as I stand here wrapped in your arms, it seems like it was only yesterday that you left. I close my eyes and those many months disappear. We hail a cab and head for Heaven. Just for a little while. We pass the main gate, as our son sleeps in you arms. I am content. You are home.
@ K.L. Farnum