At one point I remember life being happy, peaceful. Yet at this moment, it is nothing like that. It is heartache and longing. Dreaming of yesterday, dreaming of a time when I didn't feel every lonely beat of my heart. Yesterday, yesterday life was happy. Yesterday, I felt the sun beat down on my face, warming me up as the winds of the ocean blew on baby Hayden and I.
Hayden being only 13 months. She celebrated her first birthday right after the holidays. Her first holidays spent with her daddy overseas. Her first birthday spent eating cake without her daddy. Thankfully he managed to find enough signal to call us and wish his princess the happiest of first birthdays. He promised us he would be home when the weather warms up. Oh how I miss him. He left right before Halloween. He's been gone not even 3 months. His next phone call home I would be telling him he was going to be a daddy again.
Since he left, I never put my phone down. You would think I was used to this life, this being his second deployment in the time of our marriage. He left for basic training while I was studying photography. As soon as he graduated, we married and settled down. We moved into base housing. We made friends, had barbecues with the neighbors. I didn't get a chance to find work before I became pregnant with Hayden. She made me so sick, I was barely able to get out of bed some days.
Oh my dear Adam, this can not be happening. You were supposed to call me. You were supposed to come home to me. You were not supposed to die out there. That was not our plan at all. You were supposed to come home and hold Hayden and hold our new little one. You were supposed to come home and kiss me with the passion that I've felt since our second date, when I allowed you to kiss me. I am not supposed to be sitting here, rocking our baby, all alone, knowing that she will never be able to get to know her daddy. That she will never have her daddy see her in the school plays, go to prom, walk her down the aisle.
This is not how my life is supposed to be. Waiting to be told when your body will come home. I feel so cold. I need your arms wrapped around me. I need you to tell me they had the wrong guy. That you are fine. But that isn't going to happen, is it? Its going to be you in that casket under the American flag. Its going to me that makes me a widow.
Now what do I do?
