Ad Astra Per Aspera [2] - Band of Brothers

epilogue

" Being a family means you are a part of something very wonderful. It means you will love and be loved for the rest of your life. No matter what."

- Unknown

✰✰✰

June 6th, 1966 - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

20th Annual 101st 506th 'Screaming Eagles' Easy Company Reunion

Juliette Liebgott's POV

Juliette remembered the look upon her parents' faces when Joe Jr. had first said he was joining the Marines with George Jr.

Their faces turned ashen, she swore her mother's face had turned somewhat green and the grip on her father's arm was firm in its hold. It had scared Juliette.

Mara had been sitting quietly at the table, yes, Juliette remembered that much and Aster had been typing away at his stupid typewriter in the corner, not so discretely sneaking quiet glances towards the kitchen to where Joe and their parents were.

Juliette remembered her mother's cries in their bedroom that night after dinner, after Aster and Mara had offered to clean up and Joe went to call George on the phone who was in Rhode Island.

Juliette had been going to grab some more paint, but had stopped at the door when she heard one of her mother's innocent cries, muffled quite possibly by one of father's loving hugs. He gave good hugs. It was probably what her mother needed more than anything.

And she remembered the tremor in her mother's voice, the complete, utter fear that had laced it, the horror that struck in her tone. Juliette had never quite heard her mother's voice like that before, only when they had learned that Grandmom had gotten quite sick.

Juliette tried to not let it get to her but more than once she found herself looking out her window, up towards the stars, praying to God or whoever there was above to keep Joe and George safe, each and every one of the soldiers who fought over there that they would be safe.

After Joe had left, it was quieter at dinner.

Of course, Mom did most of the talking - she wasn't much of a talker in her youth, all her children knew that - but the night after he had left, she had barely touched her food and had looked half a minute away from tears every single minute.

And she saw her father's white knuckles, and the pained looks towards her mother, even across the dinner table, the complete utter ache of seeing his wife, her mother in so much pain and desperation over this war. Another war for her parents, one of many for their children.

Back home, on the little lighthouse calendar her Dad always got her Mom every year for Christmas, there would be a little number on the corner of each and every day. Juliette knew Mom was counting down the days until her son's return.