Letter to one serving overseas

Photo by Teodoro S Gruhl

 Dear Tom,

Another dismal gray day greets me like the outstretched hand of a hypocrite, smile and all. Late autumn greyness, like winter greyness, is different from the cloudy days in summer when the landscape is dominated by varying hues of green and dotted with splatterings of red and yellow, pink and purple. Just the promise of a summer rain is welcomed as vegetation reaches upward for its soothing nourishment. But now, colder temperatures and clouded skies signal an upcoming drenching followed by that familiar chill I dread. The greyness only seems to emphasize the barrenness of the season.

Surrounded by the gunfire in the desert, you're missing these autumn days when the midday darkness outside requires artificial lights burning inside. The days when it seems like dusk when dawn has barely parted. It will be dark in less than an hour, you think. And then you look at the clock and it's barely noon. Perhaps that is what I dislike most about the upcoming months. I will miss the sun.

Please forgive my complaints, as this has been an incredible fall, with lots of sunshine and warmer than normal temps. My verbiage simply reflects the dreariness of the day, echoed by my mood.


We miss you. Perhaps the approaching holidays add emphasis to the longing for your presence around our table. Of course, nothing is the same without you.

Can't wait to have you home.