Uncle Sam Wants Michael

Yesterday, I walked into work like it was any other day. I dropped the kids off with Laura (we carpool) and had the music jacked on my way in. There is nothing like a little "Jet" to start the day off right and after the heavy breather at the crack of dawn, I needed music that didn't require effort to appreciate.

I usually arrive to work somewhere around 7:15 am and I absolutely love this time to myself. I plunk down at my desk, plug in my laptop, plug in my iPod, answer email and plan my day for the next thirty minutes. I have a travel mug full of hot, perfectly brewed, Tim Horton's coffee and sometimes, if email is light, I get the chance to skim my blogroll. It is the most peace one can get outside of the bathroom.

Today, Michael came in early, which was out of the ordinary. This was his first day back from a week long holiday at the beach. He and his wife, Laura are close friends of mine and they generously took my son on vacation with them. Our boys are very tight and our daughters have been best friends since they were in diapers. I love these people.

I started to give Michael a hard time about something and he ambled down the hallway telling me to come to his office to discuss. I walked in and he was clearly preoccupied. I started teasing him about how his office looks like crap and how he ought to get a lamp or a plant or a PULSE to warm it up. He replied,

"It doesn't matter, now. I got called up this weekend." I looked at him, not comprehending what he was telling me.

"Wha...what?"

"I got my orders. I have to report for duty October 1st."

Michael is National Guard Reserve. We've all been dodging the inevitability of this day for the past five years. The shock of hearing him say it out loud surprised me. I felt my eyes start to fill and I excused myself so I wouldn't embarrass either one of us. I also recognized the first, unconscious stirrings of unadulterated, it's-not-fair rage and decided that expressing those emotions wouldn't do anyone any good.

When I got myself composed, we talked through it. Later, I watched as he walked to the president's office to break the news. He was remarkably stoic. I couldn't seem to shake the sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't fear or apprehension though. It was this mismash of non specific ick.

Just before leaving for the day, I walked out into our hallway and I could hear Michael tap, tap, tapping his pencil on his desk. He was on the phone when suddenly, he broke out into his trademark laugh which is infectious, loud and genuine. It was then that I finally understood. That unidentified thing I was feeling was sadness.

I'm going to miss him.

Terribly.