four years ago

I remember walking into our apartment. My husband sat there staring at the television, dressed for work, shaking. "I have to go." "I know." We said our goodbyes in the driveway. He raced off to the White House. We both knew it could be the last time we ever saw each other. If, as they said, the one plane left in the air was indeed headed for Washington D.C. In a couple of days i finally got to see him again. Out of all the days, weeks, months we've spent apart, these two days were by far the longest. Over the next few weeks we saw each other every few days, mostly in passing, holding each other in the driveway.

They put a bumper stickers on cars, raise flags, wear shirts. They tell us to "never forget". But honestly. Would we?