The echoe of his childhood.

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The moment he was deployed, an heaviness settled in his heart, it had always been his dream to become a soldier, just like his late grandpa. That old man had been his hero, following in his footsteps wasn't easy. But despite the hardships, he had loved every moment of it.

He had known he would be gone for at least three to five years. The uncertainty of whether he would make it weighed on him. That fear had driven him to make the hardest decision of his life, breaking up with his girlfriend. He had to convince himself that it was for the best, he couldn't bear to leave her with an uncertain future.

But that was five years ago.

Now, with his bag slung over his shoulder, he walked down the familiar street he once thought he had forgotten. Clad in his uniform, he took in his surroundings, recognizing some of the houses from his childhood. Others were refurbished into something almost unrecognizable. Yet despite the differences, a deep sense of belonging filled him.

He was home.

His gaze fell upon his house, and a wave of emotion crashed over him. The old wooden porch creaked under the weight of his boots as he stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. The house looked the same– familiar, yet distant. A few additional flower pots adorned the front, just to show the changes that had taken place while he was away.

He glanced around the front yard, a distant memory surfaced, he and his twin sister laughing, as they ran around the grass, chasing after squirrels. The echo of his childhood felt so close, yet so far out of reach.

He barely had to take a breath before the screen door burst open.

His mother was the first to reach him. “Adam! Oh Adam, my baby!” she cried, her voice breaking as she stumbled towards him. Her frail body trembling as she clung to him like she would never let go. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into his uniform as she sobbed against his chest.

“Mama, I'm back home.” he whispered, his voice thick with emotions as hugged her. He had not allowed himself to cry in years, but here, in her arms, the dam threatened to break.

His father stood behind her, he stepped forward, grasping his son's shoulders with a strong yet shaking grip. It's been ages since he saw his Pops, his face lined with age and grief, he had a poker face. But when their eyes meet, his father's resolve shattered. “Welcome home, son.” he choked out, his voice gruff with unspoken words.

He knew his father was a man of few words but he loved so deeply. His old man hugged him so tight, he didn't need words to understand that his father missed him.

His twin sister, now fully grown, hesitated for only a moment before launching herself at him, wrapping her arm around his waist. “You dummy, what took you so long!” She sobbed, her face buried against him. “I missed you so much, I almost died doing all the house chores on my own.”

The echoes of laughter behind them made him smile, despite the emotional reunion they still had it in them to laugh and enjoy in the moment.

The warmth of the house embraced him like a long-lost memory. The scent of home-made food filled the air, Lord, how he missed his Mama’s cooking. He tried to recall if he had smelled something this good other than gunpowder and dust for the last five years. Yet he couldn't. Years of eating canned food alter his taste buds.

He sat at the old wooden dinner table, the same one he gathered around as a child. The chair beneath his creaked as he shifted, the sound oddly comforting.

His Mama knew he ate very well, she placed a steaming plate in front of him, she smoothed his hair like she used to when he was little. “Eat, baby there's still enough if ain't satisfied.” she whispered in a soft motherly voice.

He picked the spoon with a shaky hand, his throat tightening. He took the first bite, and instantly the flavors explored in his mouth. The tender meat, the buttery mashed potatoes, hint of spice only his Mama knew how to blend, it was warmth, it was home, it was everything he had missed and more.

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His vision blurred as a lump in his throat became impossible to swallow. A choked sob escaped before he could stop it. He placed the spoon on his plate as he covered his face, his shoulders shaking.

He had sworn to himself the crybaby he once was. Throughout the grueling years in the military training, he never once shed a single tear. But here he was now, breaking down over his mama's cooking.

His mother gasped softly, rushing to his side. “Oh, my baby,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. He could feel her body trembling against him, as she too began to cry.

I'm sorry mama” he whispered, his voice broken. “I just…really missed this, I missed you.”

His old man, who had been silent for a while, stood up and gently patted him on the shoulder, his own way of smoothing him.

His parents didn't see a warrior, who just came back from battle. No, they saw their little boy.

“Look at you dummy, crying over a plate of meat and mashed potato, you should be ashamed.” his sister sniffed. Her tears threaten to spill as watched her once-strong, fearless brother break down something as simple as a meal.

“You're home son, you're home.” His Pops reassuring voice was comforting.

And he knew he was home.

The £nd~•°•°

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