|San Diego Soliloquies|
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
If they are smart, they will work in threes. Two will approach the door, one will knock, all will wait. It's common that a wife or mother, upon seeing who is at the door, will scream or cry at them to leave, and block the door. It's also common that they will calmly be invited in. The two will deliver the news, and usually wait until they are sure that someone will be there to help the person they've just told with the enormity of what they now must face. That the life they knew, the son, daughter, or spouse doesn't exist anymore, and they will never get to touch, see, hear or listen to them again.
The two who went to the house will then go back to the vehicle, where, if they are smart, the third one is still waiting, still able to drive, only because the third one sat some distance away.
My Dad, as the youngest in his squadron, used to be the third , or second, one, driving the chaplain around the base to tell young Navy wives that their husband crashed, died, or lay broken in the hospital. Dad only told us he used to do that, he never told us how it was.