Christina A. Sharik


I couldn’t sleep that night before –
the same as when we’d parted –
I’d wondered if we’d make it;
he seemed so distant-hearted

His letters said he loved us ~
something worried me as well,
I didn’t understand quite yet
that Vietnam was hell.

I wore a purple pantsuit
with stripes along the side
and thought I was quite something
as we started on our ride

Off to that same airport
where he’d said goodbye before
Had it been a year already?
I never thought I’d make it
when he walked out of the door.

I had a job, and Michael didn’t toddle;
he could run and he could walk.
He didn’t babble anymore;
he liked books and he could talk.

He knew Daddy from his photos –
I shared them every day
I did not want him to forget
though he was far away –

I left him with my mother
I didn’t want to share –
Just me and my in-laws, off again,
with me, a little scared.

I slipped into the ladies’ room
to fix my face and hair
and came out, just in time to face
my husband standing there…

Oh there were happy hugs
and hearts
I heard every little word.
But I knew what I was hearing
no one else had quite yet heard.

He’s still in Vietnam, I thought,
back in that sad, sad, lonely place.
But I smiled and ate my dinner
and put on a happy face.

Submitted for the May 2005 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Coming Home