Thursday, May 29, 2008


When Jack Bauer and I got home from Pilates yesterday, I sat down and started reading and responding to emails. And like most evenings for the past 2 years, I quickly became engrossed in what I was doing. It was very quiet, the dogs were eating dinner, some mindless TV show was playing in the background. Ten, 15 minutes must have passed before I realized that Jack Bauer was home. I had completely forgotten that he was here. Really. I forgot he was back from Iraq.

Once it dawned on me that Jack was in fact in the US and was supposed to be in the house, worry quickly set in. I had no idea where he was. Was he laying on the bed reading? Was he in the basement doing more cleaning? Was he upstairs going through the stuff he brought from Iraq back in foot lockers? I called for him, but no answer. It was quiet and my concern began to grow.

By the time I made it to the backyard, he was walking in from the garage where he had been putting new license plates on my car. Boy, did I feel stupid. First, for forgetting that he was home. Then worrying needlessly about his whereabouts, especially when I am gone all day long at work.

Once back inside I told Jack about forgetting he was home. We laughed it off. But what a thing to forget.