Monday night we hosted a Welcome Home party for Nelson. He arrived to the States from Afghanistan July 17, but he just arrived to our hometown this past Friday. Monday night is an odd day to host a gathering, but it was the only day he had free.
It was a fun evening. We picked up barbecue from our favorite restaurant, and had an assortment of other goodies out.
The guests came from all different parts of our life. Former and current neighbors, a favorite elementary school teacher of our son’s, church friends, family friends, work friends, most of whom had never even met Nelson. All came to welcome him home. We were happy to thank them for their support over the past nine months.
The highlight of the evening for me came when we went out side so my son could cut the yellow ribbon down from the oak tree out front. When I first put the ribbon up the bow was big fluffy and cheerful. By last night it was dirty, droopy, and sad-looking. I wrote about the ribbon while he was still deployed. The ribbon became a symbol for how I felt inside after 9 months of worry and concern.
Nelson took out a pocket knife and cut the ribbon down at the end of the party Monday night. You can see the relief on my face in the photo my husband took once it was down.
A simple act that took seconds, but reminded us how fortunate we are to have him home.