One less thing to worry about

A few years back, we lived in a suburban yuppie-land in Issaquah. I disliked most of our neighbors there, because they were fake, plastic-y people who always had a smile when they faced you but turned up their noses and gossiped when you walked away. One exception was a neighbor named Thad, who lived in the place next to us with his wife and step-daughter, and later their son who was born when my son was about a year and a half old.

Thad was a working stiff, but a well-paid working stiff. He was more down-to-earth than most of our neighbors. I liked Thad, and would talk to him often. We never got to be what I would call "friends" - partly because we were both busy, and partly because his wife seemed to really dislike me. But it was good to have one neighbor who didn't piss me off, who didn't drive a massive shiny new SUV, who didn't pretend he was more important than you.

A few months before we moved out of yuppie-land and moved back to the city, Thad and his family moved out. They were renting a house somewhere. But Thad wouldn't really be moving with them - he was former military, and still on active Reserve, and got called up and sent to Iraq. I worried about Thad. Here's a family man, near my age, with a baby just a few months old, getting sent off to war. And like I said, we weren't really "friends", so we didn't stay in touch and I never knew what happened to him.

Yesterday, I happened to be at what I knew was Thad's place of employ before getting called up. There was a guy there I thought might be him, but it was hard to tell as this guy had a thick beard - I had only ever seen Thad clean-shaven. As one of the guys who worked there walked by me, I said, "I used to live next to a guy who worked here, named Thad or Tad...he got sent to Iraq. I was wondering if he came back, if he still works here." I have known several guys named Thaddeus, and they all go by either Thad or Tad, and I was doubting I was remembering right which one this guy used.

"Don't know any Tad," the guy said, and walked away. I was wondering if maybe he was just suspicious of why I was asking when the bearded guy walked over.

"Thought you looked familiar," he said.

"Hey Thad," I said, "Wasn't sure it was you with that crazy beard you have going."

We chatted for awhile, til I finished my business and left. I told him I was glad to see he got home in one piece, that I had worried about him. I suppose I could have given him some contact information, but honestly I'm not sure we have enough in common to sustain more than a brief conversation. And for now, it's enough for me to know he made it back.

There are thousands of Americans "over there" fighting still, and some die every day. That makes me sad. But knowing that one of them who I know - one who I like - came back ok, after a few years of wondering whether he did or not...well, today, that makes me just a little bit happier.