Welcome Home

Welcome Home Michael. This was the big sign spray painted on a bed sheet and hanging from the gutter of a house in my neighborhood when Willie and I passed by on our forced march Friday morning. A Kentucky flag was stuck in the yard in front of the sign. From that, I'm assuming that Michael is perhaps a guardsman or reservist who, thankfully, returned safely from Iraq or Afghanistan. Every morning we've walked past this house, never imagining that the family living there was worried about a son, husband, or father in harm's way.

Certainly there were no naive, boasting "Support Our Troops and Our President" signs in the yard--no easy shows of patriotism. Often, the grass needed mowing, landscaping tended, and maintenance done on the home's exterior. I rarely saw any comings and goings of the residents.

And now, I understand. These people, like thousands of families across the U.S., were just waiting for Michael to come home so they can get on with their lives. Mr. President, how long must they wait?