Life is like a waterslide

Early last week, Michael, Emily, my dear friend Anne and I drove down to Kalahari waterpark, one of Michael's "last requests".  We roared down waterslides, relaxed in the hot tubs and frolicked in the wave pool without a care in the world.  My favorite slide of all is the "toilet" one.  The four of us piled into a round raft, plopped our butts into the separate spots provided and pretzeled our legs into the middle.  We were a whirlwind of motion as we struggled to be the one on top, but when all was said and done, Michael's knees ended up on top of all of ours...sticking out at an awkward angle.  We hung on, got pushed into the tube and were instantly screaming with fear in total darkness.  Swirling wildly in different and unseen directions we roared with laughter as we hung on in anticipation of each twist and wild turn.  When we reached the next "level" there is a swirling bowl of water....yup, just like a toilet bowl.  We slowed very quickly, pitching me forward onto Michael's outstretched knee.  The color is faded now, but I had a great shiner to show from having been flushed down a toilet with my family and friends. We ended with one more flush and were shot into a big pool, laughing our fool heads off. 

Life is like that.  You have an idea of where you are headed, but you are not the least bit aware of what lies ahead.  Twists and turns bring about surprises, hurts and perhaps even a scar or two.  You have no real control, but sometimes the best choice is just to go with the flow.  The end may come as a surprise, but the memories never completely disappear. 

On Tuesday, four of us piled into the truck for the drive to Lansing.  Michael, Emily, John and I were trying to stay positive, but it was not easy.  As much as you can prepare for such change, there are still unexpected moments.  Our room was the very last one in the hotel and was enormous.  The largest suite in the entire place with a master suite, a heart shaped jacuzzi, 2 enormous TV's and mutiple couches and chairs...and a dining room.  Heavens to mergatroyd!  Settled in with takeout steak dinners (yup...Michael was really living it up!), we settled in for the night and spent the evening relaxed, enjoying each others company and hanging on dearly to every moment.  Personally I was dreading the moment when Michael would leave for his room, but we managed to make it ok...and with huge clinging hugs we said good night. Goodbye number 1.
None of us slept well. 
At 0445 the door opened and Michael walked in to say goodbye once more.  He left shortly after for the MEPS. Goodbye number 2.
We ate a quick breakfast and headed out for MEPS and the complete unknown. 
The rest of the day is best described as "hurry up and wait".  We were able to spend time together between physicals (he gained 9 lbs!), lunch and multiple other odds and ends. We got serious and the emotions started swirling at the Swearing in Ceremony.  Families are allowed to stand against the wall in the room, facing the "shippers" as they hold up their hands in an oath to the United States of America in solitude and solidarity. 
Thankfully the soldier in charge added humor and some smiles to the service, which gave me what I needed to maintain my fragile composure. 
Afterward there is a "mock ceremony" for the families present to take pictures and have one last tiny chance to witness the transformation of a man.   (Pending my technical abilities...you may get to see some of this.)
Moments later we lined up near the door of the building applauding and cheering as "America's newest heroes" silently march past us as they exit the building.  Goodbye number 3.

Following the bus to the airport was a race for each light as we managed to hit every single light for 6 miles..and that stupid bus got every green. Thank goodness for Garmin...we managed and got there just as they pulled in.
Goodbye number 4 came all too quickly as he headed away from us just an hour later.  We stood mesmerized as he took off his shoes, and passed the security check.
He rode an escalator up and in an instant we lost sight of him.
Gone from sight, I felt a moment of complete breathlessness....and finally the tears began.
We hugged and headed home.  
Exhausted and shell shocked.
 And so it goes....a beginning of a new adventure.  Fears, smiles, hope and prayers.
God be with you my son.  We are home praying and waiting for you.