Disclaimers: I do not own JAG, Sarah MacKenzie, Harmon Rabb, et al. I am not making any money off of this endeavor.
~*~*~
Final Farewell
October 12, 1924
1535 Zulu (1035 EDT)
Beallsville Elementary
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Mrs. Kelley's 2nd Grade Class
The whole class looked up as the door opened and Mr. Sparks, the principal, walked in, escorting a new student. Mr. Sparks spoke quietly to Mrs. Kelley for a few moments then left.
Mrs. Kelley stepped over to the new boy and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Class, this is Aaron Rabb," Mrs. Kelley introduced him. "He's just moved here from New York to live with his grandparents, William and Elizabeth Rabb--you know, where we get to pick apples every spring. Everyone say hello."
"Hello, Aaron," the class sang in unison.
Aaron smiled. He gazed roamed around at his new classmates, stopping only when he saw Sarah Smith looking intently at him. His smile widened and his blue eyes sparkled. From that moment on, Sarah Smith was forever susceptible to the Rabb charm and could refuse him nothing from answers to homework to a stolen kiss behind the barn the summer they both turned sixteen.
~*~
April 21, 1934
0023 Zulu (1923 EDT)
Beallsville High School Gymnasium
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Ever the gentleman, Aaron held the door as Sarah preceded him into the gym. She looked around in wonder at the crepe paper decorations. She would never have recognized the room if she hadn't known better. The decorating committee had done a spectacular job. The band in the corner played favorite tunes from Benny Goodman, Count Basie, and the like.
"How about some punch?" Aaron asked.
Sarah nodded and watched as he greeted several friends on the way to the refreshment table. He was tall with cornflower blue eyes and a smile that could light up the dark. Tonight he wore a dark blue suit that made his eyes seem bluer, if that were possible.
"Hi, Sarah," Janey greeted her and they hugged. Janey and Sarah had been best friends since the fourth grade. "Oh, I love your dress! The color is perfect on you."
"Hi Janey," Sarah replied. "Do you really think so?" She blushed prettily. The dress was deep coral chiffon in the latest style of the day.
"Sarah, you're the most beautiful girl here," Janey told her.
"And I agree," Aaron said, coming up to the girls. "Hi, Janey."
The night passed pleasantly for Sarah, Aaron, Janey, and her date Edwin Holt. They danced and they laughed. The band finally announced that it was time for the last song of the evening and began tuning up.
"Sarah?" Aaron stood and held out his hand.
Sarah looked questioning at him and nodded, placing her hand in his as he helped her to her feet. There was something up with him, but she wasn't sure what it was.
Aaron held her close as the strains of Bing Crosby's latest hit Soon wafted around them. He began to sing the words softly in her ear.
Soon, maybe not tomorrow
But soon there'll just be two of us.
Soon you and I will borrow
The moon for just the two of us.
Sweetly and so discreetly
We'll be completely alone
No other world, only our own.
Now we must be contented
With schemes about the two of us.
Yet we can have our sweet-scented dreams
That will come true of us.
For presently and pleasantly
Our hearts will be in tune
So soon, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.
As the song wound down, he released her and dropped to one knee.
"Aaron, what are you doing?" Sarah asked. Their classmates heard her question and looked over. A silence descended over the gym as all eyes were on Sarah and Aaron.
"Sarah..." he swallowed. "I've loved you since the third grade. There could never be another girl for me. Will you marry me?"
Sarah put her hands over her mouth and nodded as applause broke out around them. Aaron stood and took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
~*~
August 21, 1937
1612 Zulu (1112 EDT)
Beallsville Community Church
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Sarah fidgeted in her gown as she waited for the bridal march to begin. She and Aaron had waited three years to married. She knew many people would doubt them, but they had also been waiting for their marriage to be totally intimate.
With Aaron away at the academy for the past two years, their time together always ran high on emotion. They had been tempted to cross the line many times, but one or the other prevailed and they had made it. Sarah was glad.
The organ began and she smiled up at her father as she placed her hand on his arm. The church attendants opened the double doors that led to the aisle. The small church was filled with flowers from every garden in Beallsville. Candles were glowing all around the altar and the sun shone through the stained glass windows that lined the walls.
Sarah and her father began the slow trek down the aisle. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met Aaron's. He smiled that Rabb smile at her and the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She was so happy. She had been waiting three long years for this moment. Actually, she had been waiting since the second grade; although it hadn't been a conscious thought until the first time he kissed her.
They reached the front and her father placed her gloved hand into Aaron's gloved hand.
"Dearly beloved..."
~*~
May 17, 1942
0209 Zulu (1609 Local)
Hickam Field/Honolulu Air Field
Honolulu, Hawaii
Sarah watched out the small window as the DC-3 approached the base. Aaron had told her that the Navy shared a runway with the Honolulu Air Field and that's where she'd be landing. The deep blue ocean gave way quickly to the aquas and teals of the shallow shore waters. The plane then flew over the lush tropical foliage of the island. Within minutes, the residue destruction of the winter before came into view. New buildings were in direct contrast to the bombed out shells of others. Sarah couldn't imagine the scene of December 7th. Instead she pulled out her little powder mirror and checked her hair. The plane bounced gently as it touched down on the airstrip.
Picking up her handbag and coat, Sarah stood and stepped into the aisle of the plane. Her hands were a bit sweaty; she was nervous about seeing Aaron. It had been almost a year since she'd last seen him when he graduated from Pensacola and had a week of leave. They had spent the week together in Pensacola at the beaches.
She stepped carefully down the aircraft's stairs. Once she reached the ground, Sarah shielded her eyes form the sun to look around for Aaron. It didn't take her long to spot him as he was running toward her, having picked her out of the line of women coming off the plane.
"Sarah!" he called.
She waved in return and began walking, then running toward him, too. Aaron enveloped her in his arms and swung her around and she laughed.
After setting her back on the ground, Aaron looked into her eyes. "God, it's good to have you here," he said softly.
"I can't believe I'm here, either," she replied, a soft smile playing around her lips.
Aaron leaned forward and kissed her. "You let your hair grow," he said, running his fingers through her auburn tresses.
"You made commander," Sarah countered, touching the silver oak leaf on the collar of his khaki shirt.
"You'll probably get the letter when you get home," Aaron replied. "Let me get your bag."
Aaron walked around to the back of the plane and recognized Sarah's small bag immediately.
Hand in hand, they walked back to the terminal and out front to the jeep Aaron had been able to secure. He helped her into the vehicle and then went around and climbed inside.
"I wanted to get a nice bungalow on the beach, but I have to stick close to the base," he said to Sarah. "I did get a special pass for Wednesday and I have a special surprise for you. Meanwhile, we'll stay at Mrs. McNichols' boarding house. She has a room all ready for us—on the top floor, away from the rest of her guests." Aaron waggled his eyebrows at her causing her to laugh.
"Mrs. McNichols, this is my wife, Sarah," Aaron introduced them.
"Welcome, Sarah." The kind, grandmotherly woman welcomed her effusively. "Come this way, children, let me show you to your room." She led them, huffing and puffing, up two flights of stairs to a single room tucked up under the eaves. "Used, to be the attic, don't you know," she said, fanning her face with her apron. "My husband finished it just before Pearl Harbor, when the troops were starting to build up here in town."
"It's charming, Mrs. McNichols," Sarah said with pleasure. The starched eyelet curtains blew lightly from the breeze. The bed, centered between the windows, was covered with a beautiful wedding ring quilt done in shades of blue. The wall behind the bed was painted a sky blue while all the others were painted a crisp white. A small bureau stood against the wall to the left of the bed with a pretty bouquet of daisies centered on it.
"I'll leave you two alone now," she winked and chuckled. "Supper is at six o'clock. If you don't make it, I'll understand." She laughed again and pulled the door shut behind her.
"Aaron, it's lovely," Sarah turned and hugged her husband, who placed another tender kiss on her lips.
*
May 20, 1942 (Wednesday)
1632 Zulu (0632 Local)
Island of Oahu
Hawaii
The sun was just peeking over the mountain as Aaron and Sarah started off on their adventure. The air was fresh after an overnight shower, the foliage sparkling with raindrops.
"It sure was nice of Mrs. McNichols to pack this lunch for us," Sarah remarked as she peeked into the basket of goodies.
"Well, I asked her to and I paid her," Aaron replied.
"Where are we going?" Sarah asked. The last two days had been spent sight seeing around Honolulu, taking in the beaches and meeting some of Aaron's shipmates.
"I told you it was a surprise," he smiled at her. "You'll just have to wait and see."
They drove through the valley, headed to the northern end of the island, talking the whole way and catching up on each other. After about forty-five minutes they came out of the valley and traveled northwest along the shore for another twenty minutes.
"Here we are," Aaron finally said, pulling up in front of a small bungalow on the beach.
"It's beautiful," she said as Aaron helped her out of the jeep. "Whose is it?"
"It belongs to one of the mechanics back at the base," Aaron explained, grabbing their basket of food and a small bag. "I got a 24-hour pass, Sarah, and Joe offered to let us borrow it for the night."
The sun shone brightly all day and they spent most of it frolicking in the sand and surf like two young children. Because of the war, there weren't many other people around and that suited them just fine. The sun was still shining when they finally went inside to enjoy more of the delicious food that Mrs. McNichols had prepared for them and to get away from the heat for a while. Aaron and Sarah snuggled together on the sofa and were soon sound asleep.
Sarah opened her eyes to darkness, forgetting for a moment where she was. She struggled to sit up, Aaron's limbs entwined with her own. She smiled as she thought of their lovely day. Her pleasure was soon replaced by sadness when she remembered that she would be heading home the day after tomorrow. A tear trickled down her cheek and she sniffed, causing Aaron to stir.
"What's wrong?" Aaron asked in a sleepy voice, having been awakened by her heavy sigh.
Sarah quickly wiped her moist cheeks. "Nothing," she said, not wanting to mar their memory making with tears. "What time is it?"
Aaron rose and flipped on a small light, both of them blinking at the brightness. "It's a little after eight thirty," he glanced at his watch. "Let's go watch the stars come out."
Sarah nodded and grabbed a blanket. They walked hand in hand out to the beach. Together, they spread the blanket and snuggled together as they watched the stars appear. First, the stars came out one by one, then it seemed as if the sky exploded.
"Look, Sarah, a shooting star!" Aaron exclaimed, pointing. "Quick—make a wish."
Sarah closed her eyes and did as Aaron suggested, knowing that it was unlikely to come true. "Did you make a wish?" she asked him. He nodded.
The moon began to rise; it's silvery reflection sparkling on the water.
Aaron began to rain kisses on Sarah's face and neck.
"Aaron, wait—" Sarah broke their kiss and sat up. She looked around, breathing heavily. "Someone will see us."
"No one will see us, Sarah, it's a private beach," Aaron assured her, pulling her back into his embrace. "The gate to the beach is locked until oh-six-hundred."
"How about a swim?" he asked, kissing her forehead
"My suit is full of sand," she replied.
"Who needs a suit?" he commented with a grin. "We just made love on the beach—let's skinny dip."
"Oh, my gosh…" She let him pull her to her feet and down the beach to the surf. "Oh…I don't know Aaron. It's kind of cold."
"It's no colder than a swimming pool," he argued. "Please…?" She finally nodded. "WHOOPEE!" he shouted and dragged her into the water.
They splashed and played and swam until Sarah's teeth started chattering.
"C-can w-we g-get out n-now?" she stammered.
"Oh, Sarah, come on." He ran up the beach and grabbed the blanket and shook the sand out of it. He enveloped them both in the blanket and after collecting their suits, they walked back to the bungalow.
~*~
May 22, 1942
1710 Zulu (0710 Local)
Hickam Field/Honolulu Air Field
Honolulu, Hawaii
They were both quiet as they arrived at the airfield. After a glorious week, it was time for Sarah to go back home and for Aaron to rejoin the war. The walk to the plane seemed interminable and, yet, ended all too soon. They watched out the window as the plane's crew completed their pre-flight checklist.
"Hawaii Airlines flight 322 bound for San Diego is now boarding at gate three…"
Sarah turned into Aaron's embrace and began to cry. He held her and whispered how much he loved her in her ear.
The other passengers, mostly women, filed past them and out the door.
"Sarah, honey, you've got to go," Aaron said, tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes. "I love you, baby."
"Don't make me go, Aaron. I can't bear it," Sarah choked out, tears streaming down her face. "Can't I stay at Mrs. McNichols'?"
"Sarah, listen to me," Aaron's said, attempting to be firm. "Sarah, don't leave me with memories like this. I couldn't bear it. Please, Sarah…" Aaron's voice cracked. "I need to know you're safe…at home…in Pennsylvania." He kissed her sweetly and wiped the tears away. "Please, Sarah…" he whispered. "Leave me with a smile, even if it kills you. Can you do it…for me?"
Sarah nodded and sniffed back her tears, offering him a wobbly smile. She reached up and touched his cheek. "I love you…"
"Last call for flight 322, departing from gate three…"
"You better go." He pulled her to him in a fierce hug. "I love you, too, Sarah…"
Sarah offered him the brightest smile she could muster as she pulled out of his arms. Aaron stepped back and saluted her and she lifted her hand in a small wave as she stepped out the door. She walked quickly to the plane's steps and turned for one last wave. She could barely make out his form on the other side of the window.
Tears trickled down Aaron's cheeks as his wife disappeared inside the plane. He didn't bother to wipe them away as he turned and left the terminal.
He hastened to the jeep and took off. Ten minutes later, Aaron stopped the vehicle at the top of a small hill. Moments later the DC-3 carrying his wife away, flew overhead. Aaron dropped his face to hands and sobbed.
~*~
November 11, 1942
2013 Zulu (1513 EST)
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Sarah wiped her hands on her apron and went to answer the door. She peeked out the front window and inhaled sharply at the sight of the official navy blue sedan parked in the driveway. Placing her hand to her breast, she drew a deep breath to steady herself. She always knew this could happen. It could happen when you loved an aviator. It could happen when the whole world was at war.
Reaching behind her to untie the apron was getting more and more difficult as her pregnancy advanced. Now six months pregnant, she was as big as her cousin had been at nine months along. Sarah threw the apron in the closet and went to the door.
"Hello?" she asked through the screen. She could see their faces drop as they realized her condition.
"Mrs. Rabb?" the captain asked, holding his hat in his hand. "May we come in?"
She wanted to say no, as if by not letting them in, the bad news they had come to bear would cease to exist—that Aaron would not be missing in action or dead.
"Yes, of course," she said as she unlatched the screen and held it open for them. A lieutenant junior grade followed the captain inside and they stood nervously facing her.
"I'm Captain Russell and this is Lieutenant, junior grade, Harrison," he told her. "I guess you know why we're here."
"Yes, Captain," Sarah replied stoically.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Captain Russell said softly. "Your husband was killed in the Battle of Santa Cruz in October. His plane was hit and he went down." He paused for a moment to let the news sink in. He hated this job, but unfortunately he didn't have a choice. "The USS Anderson was able to retrieve his body from the wreckage before it sank. Your husband will be returned home for burial as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Captain," Sarah said.
"Is there anything we can do, Ma'am?" Lieutenant Harrison finally spoke up. "Anyone we can call to come be with you?"
"No, Lieutenant, I'll take care of it." She offered her hand, first to the captain, then to the lieutenant. "I appreciate you driving all the way out here to tell me in person."
"Yes, Ma'am." He handed her the official telegram, nodded to the lieutenant, and headed for the door. "The Navy will be in contact with you, Mrs. Rabb, regarding your husband's body, personal effects, and other official business soon." Captain Russell opened the door and walked to the car with Lieutenant Harrison following. He surreptitiously wiped a tear from his cheek. He had met far too many pregnant widows in the last eighteen months. He had to transfer out of this unit.
As the door clicked shut behind the two men, Sarah sank onto the sofa. Her eyes burned, but the tears would not come. The baby rolled inside of her, but she couldn't muster any happiness at the moment at the thought of her unborn child. That child's father, the love of her life, the man she had known she would marry since the second grade was gone from her life, forever.
~*~
December 21, 1942
1603 Zulu (1103 EDT)
Arlington National Cemetery
Arlington, Virginia
The last note of Taps echoed into the gray sky. A suitable day for a funeral.
Sarah stood next to the casket, shivering in the frigid air, as the Navy chaplain recited the closing prayer. The Honor Guard folded the flag, and an officer she didn't know presented the flag to her. All around her, friends and family sniffled and whimpered at the realization that Aaron was truly dead. They finally had his body as proof. Everyone had held out hope until his body had been delivered. Sarah had known in her heart the moment she saw the blue car parked outside the house. She knew that Aaron was never coming home to her alive. She would never hold him or be held by him again and still she didn't cry.
~*~
February 13, 1943
1425 Zulu (0925 EDT)
Beallsville Post Office
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
"Good morning, Mrs. Murray," Sarah greeted the elderly postmistress.
"My goodness, Sarah," Mrs. Murray exclaimed. "Haven't you had that baby, yet?"
"No, not yet." Sarah sighed. She was definitely ready to be a mother.
Mrs. Murray regarded Sarah's protruding stomach for a moment. "Looks like a girl to me," she said with a sympathetic smile. "A sweet daughter would be nice."
"Yes, a daughter would probably be best considering..." Sarah left the rest of the sentiment unvoiced. "Is there anything for me?"
"Well, just a minute, dear, let me check," she said and disappeared around the corner. "Oh, dear..."
"What is it, Mrs. Murray?" Sarah called.
Mrs. Murray reappeared with a worried look. "It's from your husband, dear..." She handed the letter to Sarah.
Sarah looked at the familiar scrawl. The letter wasn't postmarked until November 11th. The day the men had come to tell her Aaron was dead. Sarah knew that mail from the boat was never postmarked until it reached port and was processed on base. She had asked Aaron about the disparity between the day he wrote a letter until it was postmarked, since he often said in his letters that he would drop it in the mailbag on his way to chow or a briefing.
"Thank you, Mrs. Murray." Sarah offered a slight smile before leaving the post office. She tucked the letter into her coat pocket and began the walk home. Sarah noted the significance of receiving this last letter—no doubt written right before he left for the mission that killed him—in time for Valentine's Day. She decided to save it for tomorrow.
~*~
February 14, 1943
0943 Zulu (0443 EDT)
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Sarah opened her eyes and they adjusted quickly to the dark. She had slept fitfully, as she had done since notification of Aaron's death. The letter was propped against the lamp and she could see its faint silhouette. Aaron's side of the bed was cold. Well, it was February in Pennsylvania, after all, but she didn't think that she would ever be warm in that bed again.
She pushed herself up against the headboard and then reached over and switched on the light, blinking at the brightness. Looking at the letter, Sarah debated whether or not to read it now. It was technically Valentine's Day. She reached over and picked it up. The envelope was dirty and smudged. One of the corners was torn off a bit. Sarah traced her name with her fingertip: Mrs. Aaron Rabb. She was no longer half of a whole, she realized. Now she was only Sarah Rabb.
Sarah slipped her index finger under the flap and gently pulled the flap open. She pulled out a familiar looking sheet of paper. One just like the other ninety-seven letters she had from him since the start of the war. Unfolding the letter, she took a deep breath and started to read...
October 25, 1942
My dearest Sarah,
We will launch another sortie in a few hours...I can't tell you what our target is, but I'm sure you'll figure it out based on the date of my letter and the news when you hear it.
I'm sure you heard of our great victory in the Battle of the Philippines. Thank goodness that Admiral Mitscher ordered the lights on or I'm sure we would have all ended up in the drink. I'm sure the tide is turning and that the war will be over soon.
I am looking forward to the news of our first child. I confess, Sarah...I really want a boy...a son to follow in the Rabb naval tradition. I know we haven't discussed many names, but would you consider Harmon after my grandfather Rabb, if it happens to be a boy?
It seems forever since our week together in Pearl Harbor last May. It was so wonderful to be able to hold you in my arms and that's what keeps me going day in and day out...thoughts of you.
Well, Sarah, it's almost time for the mission briefing, so I must go. I have a bad feeling about this mission...not for my personal safety, but something just doesn't sit well with me. I'll tuck this in the mailbag on my way out.
Remember how much I love you...
Forever yours,
Aaron
Short and sweet, as were most of his letters. What had she expected? Of course, he hadn't known that it was going to be the last letter he ever wrote to her.
The first tear slipped down her cheek practically unnoticed as she remembered their time together at Pearl. The second tear followed slowly, but the rest began a flood.
Sarah cried and cried. She hadn't cried since Aaron had put her on the plane last May. She had clung to him in the sparkling Hawaiian morning sun, begging him not make her go home. She wiped her tears on the edge of the sheet, but to no avail. She must have cried for hours as the tears continued to fall and fall. Sarah finally fell into a deep, cathartic sleep.
A loud groan woke Sarah. She realized it had come from herself as a powerful pain gripped her around the middle. After the pain had subsided, she carefully crawled out of bed and grabbed her wrapper and proceeded to the hallway to telephone her mother to let her know it was time for the baby.
Her mother and the doctor showed up within twenty minutes. She heard them knocking, but she was in the middle of another powerful contraction and was powerless to move. Eventually, they let themselves in and found her curled up in her bed.
A few hours and too many contractions later...
"Congratulations, Mrs. Rabb, you have a beautiful baby boy," the doctor informed her as he placed the squalling bundle in her arms. "Do you have a name picked out, yet?"
Sarah nodded. "Harmon Aaron Rabb...after his grandfather and his father."
"Fine...fine..." The doctor scribbled the baby's name on the birth certificate.
~*~
January 2, 1970
1456 Zulu (0956 EDT)
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
Sarah glanced at the clock when the phone rang. She normally didn't get calls mid-afternoon. The cold water numbed her fingers as she rinsed the potting soil off of them. She had spent the morning repotting some of her plants.
"I'm coming...I'm coming," she said to the phone as she walked to the hallway. "Hello?"
"Mother? It's Trish," said the voice full of tears on the other end of the line.
A cold chill swept over Sarah, "Trish, what's wrong? Is it little Harm?" Knowing even as she asked that the answer would be no.
"No, it's Harm..." Trish snuffled into the receiver. "Two men were just here...from the Navy...they said that Harm's plane was shot down. They don't know where he is."
Sarah sank into the chair next to the phone. "When?" she asked her daughter-in-law.
Trish couldn't speak for bursting into tears.
"Trish, honey...get a hold on yourself, please..." Sarah pleaded. She remembered her own visit from the Navy twenty-eight years ago as if it were yesterday. "I need to know when." Sarah heard Trish blow her nose.
"On Christmas Eve," she finally said. "We were laughing and...and...he was..."
"Trish, there's nothing we could have done differently that would have changed the outcome," Sarah pointed out. She was ready to get off the phone, but had to ask, "How is little Harm?"
"I don't think he understands, yet," Trish said.
"I don't know what's worse; for a child to never know his father," Sarah remarked thinking of her son. "Or knowing your father and having him terribly removed from your life at such an age." She thought of the impact this would have on her grandson. "Trish, I need to go now. If you need to come out here, call me." Sarah hung up. She couldn't take the younger woman's tears any longer, she had her own to cry.
Sarah walked slowly to Harm's room. It looked just as had since Harm had left for the academy. She ran her fingers along the edge of the desk where Harm had spent so many hours studying in order to get into Annapolis. The model planes that hung from the ceiling were a testimony to the boy's longing for his aviator father and a desire to follow in his footsteps. The tears trickled down Sarah's soft cheeks and she didn't bother to wipe them away.
Surely she could bear up under the pain. After all, God never gave a person more than they could handle, right? Sarah lay down on the bed and pulled the quilt around her, remembering the day he was born, right here in this very room. As she remembered the many milestones in her son's life she fell asleep and dreamt of father and son meeting in a better place.
~*~
September 26, 1998
1523 Zulu (1023 EDT)
Rabb Farm
Beallsville, Pennsylvania
The sound of an engine caught Sarah's attention as she came in from the laundry porch. She continued through the house to the front door. Recognizing her grandson's red convertible Corvette, Sarah opened the door and ran out to greet Harm.
"It's so good to see you, sweetheart." Sarah wrapped her arms around him.
"Hi, Gram, it's good to see you, too." He smiled a smile that still made her heart leap. One she had been falling for for seventy-four years.
"How was Russia, Harm? Your mom called and told me you had gone." Sarah took him by the arm and led him into the house. "Was it a case of espionage or something?"
"No, Gram. I didn't go there for a case," he told her. "I went there to find my dad."
"Oh, Harm..." She looked up at him. "Honestly, I'm not sure I want to know what you found out." Sarah knew that Harm's quest had been a driving force all his life and something he had to accomplish for himself. She had figuratively buried her son long ago and wasn't sure she was ready to hear anything more.
"Gram..."
"Harm...I don't know if I can bear too much more." She walked toward the window and looked out. "First your grandfather, then your father, then you. Thankfully, you can home alive and well, and not much worse for the wear." She pulled a hankie from her pocket and blew her nose. "I knew your grandfather was dead, Harm. As soon as those men came, I just knew in my soul that he was dead. The years of not knowing what happened to my son...I finally put it in God's hands, Harm. I had to. The alternative was too much to accept."
"Gram, I have something for you." He was holding out a rough looking envelope when she turned around.
"What is it?"
"It's a letter from dad...Gram, he escaped and survived for many years," Harm replied dropping his arm when she didn't take the letter. "He lived with a farm woman and her brother until he was killed defending the woman from soldiers. Mac and I went there and the woman told me about dad. She had three letters he had written. She gave them to me because she never knew what they were; she didn't speak English. There was one for mom, one for me, and one for you."
"Did I ever tell you that your father was an answer to a wish upon a star?" She reached out for the letter and slipped into her pocket. "I'll read it later when I'm alone, if you don't mind."
"Sure, Gram. How about something to eat?" Harm headed toward the kitchen.
Sarah sighed as she watched her grandson pull out. She patted the letter in her pocket before pulling it out. She looked at her name, Mrs. Sarah Rabb, written in a shaky scribble across the envelope. The irony was not lost on her. She pulled the letter out and opened it carefully. The years had taken their toll on the fragile paper.
Fall 1989
Dear Mom,
It has been so long since my capture, I have lost track of the dates. I only know it is fall here in the Russian tundra...
I don't know if you'll ever get this letter, but I had to write it. There are a few things I've always wanted to tell you.
First of all, I want to tell you how much I love you, Mom. I can't even guess what it must have been like to raise me on your own, but I do know how much love it must have taken. Love, not only for me, but for dad as well.
I also want to thank you...for always supporting me in my dream of being like my dad...for never showing the fear you surely must have felt when I decided on fighter planes...and for the sacrifices it took to help me achieve my dream.
Lastly, Mom...I want to apologize. I'm sorry for leaving you. I can't imagine the pain you must have endured after dad died, but to have the loss of a son added to the sorrow...
I can only hope that my disappearance will have been the last tragedy of your life.
Your son,
Harmon Rabb
The letter fluttered to the floor as Sarah dropped her face to her hands and sobbed. Heavy, shoulder wracking sobs, as she had never done before. The last letter from Aaron had been the same as every other he had written to her. Not a letter of goodbye.
Indeed, had he known he was never coming back, what would he have written?
~Fin~