It has been 26 years since my military friend Dan and I packed our portable cooler, shorts and t-shirts cut from old jeans into his metallic blue car and passed through the main gate of Fort McCellan military base. We set out for Florida with our weekend leave documents and the military allowances we received from the army. We decided to have a nice time on the beach.

This was the only way we could forget the terrible caravans we ate and the terrible mosquitoes of Alabama. It was May and the weather was beautiful. We turned up the car and the music all the way. When we arrived in Birmingham, we wanted to take a break and call our mothers to celebrate Mother’s Day. My mother had just returned from shopping. I could tell from his voice that he was unhappy because I couldn’t spend this special day with my family. “Have a nice trip, be careful.

“We will miss you very much,” he said. When I returned to the car, I realized from the expression on Dan’s face that he was feeling guilty like me. We sat down, thought and decided to send flowers to our mothers. After parking our car in a parking lot in the south of Birmingham, we went to the nearest florist.

We wrote a note on the flowers we would send and tried to alleviate the feeling of guilt that we felt because we were going to spend the weekend at the beach instead of our mother. The florist was obviously helping his mother choose flowers. We waited aside, writing our notes to be added to the flowers.

We couldn’t wait to be reunited with the sea and the girls as soon as possible. “I’m sure my mother will love these flowers,” said the little boy. “My mother loved carnations very much.” “Before we go to the cemetery,” he continued, “I will add the flowers I picked from our garden.” I looked at Dan. Together, we watched the little boy proudly leave the shop with flowers in his hand and get into his father’s car. The florist asked, “What kind of thing do you want?” he asked..

The little boy made him very emotional, too. “I guess we don’t want it,” Dan said, his voice shaking. We threw the notes we wrote into the trash can and left the store and got in the car. Dan said, “I’ll pick you up at five o’clock on Sunday evening” and dropped me off at my mother’s house. While trying to take my holiday bag out of the car, I said, “Okay.” We could go to Florida another time…

Niki Sepsas