“Your Kids Can Eat at Home,” My Dad Said—So When the Waiter Returned, I Stood Up – The Archivist

sitting in my sparse apartment at two-thirty on a Thursday afternoon in civilian clothes—jeans and a faded Navy t-shirt I’d gotten at some long-forgotten base exchange—staring at an embossed invitation on my kitchen counter?

I was on leave. Thirty days of accumulated time off that my superiors had insisted I take before they started filing paperwork continue reading …