"With your permission sir, I'd like to take the weekend to get some personal things together."
Only a weekend, Jack mused as he sat in the bedroom, staring at the neatly written pages and envelopes sitting on the top of his desk. Only a weekend to condense what seemed like a lifetime of memories into a few short hours of writing thoughts and feelings to those he loved most. He knew the value of such letters from days in his black ops, having to deliver personal letters from comrades to grieving widows and families. He had thought hard through the day and night, remembering little events, scattered memories of things that had almost been forgotten but now came back in a rush; the whole seven years past rushing to the foreground as surely as the swoosh of the Stargate event horizon.
Only a weekend to let them know how he felt, in case he was lost forever to the Ancient device.
He didn't regret doing what he did, sticking his head in that thing. He was a soldier. He did what had to be done.
Now he had to use the little time he had left on this earth.
Letting them know.
Letting her know.
He stretched the kinks from his cramped arms and began to reread the letters.