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JAKE
It's strange to be back in Home, Washington. This town is where I was born and raised. My mom still lives here, in the same house where I grew up.
It's a town full of memories, nearly all of them good ones. It's a salt of the earth place, with a Main Street and a Fourth of July parade, where people don't just know your name, they invite you over for dinner on Sunday afternoons. It's a good place to visit, but I think it's too sweet, too damn sugary, for a man like me. Maybe before, when I was younger, I could hack it in a place like this, but now, I've seen too much, been too many places, lost too much.
As a soldier in the army, I’ve realized how fucking precious life truly is, all of it. Every minute we've got, it matters, and that's why I'm headed over to my mom's place this morning, to bring her a bouquet of flowers.
Yeah, it might sound cheesy, or like I'm a mama's boy, but I don't really care. What I care about is, while I'm home on leave, my mom knowing that she did a good job raising me. I know it's been hard on her. She was a single mom raising one child all on her own. Me living overseas in the military slays her, I know it does. So while I'm home this month, I'm going to make the most of it.
I'm lucky that I have a cabin I built before I ever joined the military. I enlisted when I was 20 years old and had spent time living in town, working at the hardware store for the Rough family. But eventually I realized I wanted to go serve my country. It was hard on my mom, but she understood. I have always had a strong sense of duty.
All that to say – I spent the year before I was shipped off to bootcamp living in the cabin I built with my own two hands. Well, of course, some of my friends helped. Bartlett Rough and I were best friends when we were growing up, and he and his brothers helped me lay the foundation.
This morning everyone is out getting things ready for the parade this afternoon. I keep my head down though, not wanting any attention. Being back for the first time in a few years is big news in Home, but I don’t want to talk about what it was like in the Army. I’ve never liked attention, and the last thing I feel like is a hero.
I head to Main Street, I grab a bouquet of flowers from the local florist, then wind my way around town to my mom's place. She lives on the outskirts, right past Tender Trail. Her little cottage has a great view of the popular walking path that cuts across town.
When I get to her house, she smiles broadly as she opens the door. "Oh Jake, you're so thoughtful."
"Well, I know you love flowers."
"Honey," she says. "You've been home 48 hours and already, you're making me remember why it was so hard to let you leave."
"Sorry, Mom. I'm not trying to make this more difficult. I just thought..." I shrug as I walk into the house, head into the back where the kitchen is. She follows me and reaches for a vase in a cupboard, then fills it with water before adding the pink dahlias to it.
