Letter To My Daughter

Homecoming has come and gone. Our family is once again complete! This post is a letter I began to write to my oldest daughter prior to homecoming. My husband and I decided to keep homecoming a surprise from her and her little sister – and although it was difficult, it was well worth it. I wanted to share here the letter I intend on giving my daughter one day – she is my everything and I hope with all she has gone through in her little life’s years, she never not knows that.

Dearest Daughter,

Today your daddy is coming home from deployment and you have no idea. It has been so difficult to keep this very happy secret from you but I felt it would be such a great surprise.  I imagine you walking towards the buses completely unaware your little heart’s wish for daddy to be home come true unexpectedly and you and your little sister scream ‘daddy’ and run into his arms filled with tears of joy and happiness (and I running behind crying as well).

You both have tearfully missed your father and had your share of bad days for such a young age. Each of your emotions have been tested and forced to mature rapidly from infancy to that of a young adult. You alone have endured more sorrow and heart aches than most adults can handle and yet your little heart understands it as a part of our lives even though your tender logic does not permit you to fully value what and why your daddy ‘goes away’.

I hope that when you read this letter you find yourself proud and prideful for the commitment your daddy did for the military, our country, people in America, and most of all – our family. You have experienced and accepted so much sacrifice and change than I have in my life so far – and yet you never cease to amaze me in how your faith, love, and strength has never been shaken.  Although you are so young, you not once have felt ashamed or abandoned from the side effects that come along with being a military family. In this present day you understand your father to be a hero and my hope is that you never stop thinking that way because a hero he will forever be – don’t let anyone ever tell you anything different.

Since you are still in your youthful-bliss years, I don’t go into details about why and exactly what your daddy does for our country only because you are still incapable of fully understanding the intricacy of our nation’s politics. Today, your infantile mind permits you to comprehend that our military is formulate and utilized to protect America. Just this past year we openly discussed the events of September 11, 2001 after you saw a video clip on the news of the airplane crashing into a building you will never see or visit (as I did). In tears I explained to you in a level you could grasp as to what this meant for our country and the people who live here. I was initially concerned that I might be planting a seed of fear in you, but instead your response was you telling me how glad you are that your daddy is part of a military that fights to make sure that never happens again.

Even with this most recent deployment, for humanitarian relief, you found yourself struggling with your emotions of pride and sadness because you missed your daddy. You were simply teased with a 2 week visit before your daddy received orders to redeploy and although you cried and pouted, your selfless heart couldn’t wait for help to reach the children of Haiti who had less than nothing. You felt compassion without ever knowing the word and already recognized how fortunate you are to have life’s perks and pleasures at arm’s reach.

I am so proud to be the mother of such a jovial, sensitive, intelligent, and empathetic little girl. Many times I wonder if our life’s circumstances have resulted in you growing up too fast and possibly missing out on being ‘just a kid’. With your humbleness and kindhearted ways you constantly put yourself in second place to the world. You silently watched my breakdowns and frustrations on those very trying days and did all you could to help and ease my pains. I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for the times I yelled and lost patience like a scorpion whipping around my tail because I too missed your daddy and lost my hold on control. Every now and then I allowed my aggravation to seam out of my pores from the pressures of handling the homefront on a deployment – please forgive me for those unnecessary moments. I am not and never will be a perfect mother and just as I learned and grew from my mother I wish and pray that you too will take in the good and bad and always aim to be better than I for your children if you ever desire to be a mother.

I don’t know what the Lord has planned for our family and/or how many more deployments we will have experienced by the time I give you this letter but if there is one thing I hope you never stop knowing it is how much you and your sister mean to me and your daddy. Our life’s trials, tribulations, sacrifices, and unknowingness is consistently tolerable with one single thought of you and your sister. Our life is made easy because of you girls. God gave us the most special and fragile gifts we could ever receive and we truly and honestly cherish and treasure each and every moment with you two.

I look forward to watching you become a tween, teenager, young adult, and adult. I don’t expect it to be an easy task – to sit back and observe you make your life’s decisions as well as watching you fail to learn from your own mistakes. I can only trust that we have provided you with valuable life experiences, exposed you to the world in a way that permits you to assess and distinguish good from bad, and (most of all) supplied you with faith and trust in our God that He will always provide you your needs – just as He has done for our family so far.

You are a beautiful little girl inside and out. Your childlike honest ways give you an advantage to most adults, including myself, as to what an imperfect human being should be. I can’t wait to learn more about you and from you. I expect you to continue to amaze me in all the years to come. And please never ever forget that: No matter the day, no matter the time, no matter the weather, no matter whatever…I will love you forever and ever.

Love you to the moon and stars (plus infinity!),

Mommy

 

HOMECOMING

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Wordless Wednesday…A Little Pink in a World of Camo

Today a very young Military wife along with her newborn baby girl will be putting to rest the man who was is her everything.

I have followed Mrs. P’s blog, A Little Pink in a World of Camo, for some time now. I love her honesty, humor, and cuteness –> her posts are always great to read. Last Wednesday, however, I found myself crying and my heart breaking for someone I never met but felt I knew. Mrs. P wrote about how her life turned upside down in a matter of seconds. On Sunday, March 14th, 2010, her husband, a USMC Cpl, died while on operations in Afghanistan. Her strength to come back to her blog and write about it already makes her a thousand times stronger than I.

As Military wives, this is our greatest fear: That our beloved doesn’t come home ‘safe’  – but when I come across something like this it becomes such a reality that it scares me even more. My heart and prayers go out to Mrs. P and her family. I pray that she continue to find strength and comfort in her wonderful memories that will live on with her forever.

This is just another reminder to truly embrace life and never take it for granted. Cherish every moment because we ultimately will never know God’s plan (nor understand it). I know I for sure took for granted the little bit of days I had my husband home before he re-deployed with no warning. We could have shared more emotions, exchanged more hugs and kisses, and just stared at each other –> but instead we chose to go back into our familial ‘roles’, chaotically setup house, and independently do our own thing only because I fell into thinking I was in a safety net of my husband being home. Now, although my situation is completely incomparable to what Mrs. P has experienced and is experiencing, it’s just that it has made me take a step back to reflect my life – our life.

Mrs. P, you are an amazing woman and yes! you will ALWAYS be a Marine Wife. God’s love and ((hugs)) to you.

Rest in Peace Cpl Jonathan Daniel Porto

 

Calling all Military Spouses, Girlfriends, Fiancés, Children, Friends and Families: NEED YOUR INPUT!!

Hello Everyone!!

I haven’t been able to ‘post’ anything lately because I have been preoccupied with a couple of projects and ideas I’ve put on the back burner. Now with the hubby re-deployed and with being in a new location (still quite unfamiliar with) I decided to attempt to use my time wisely and take advantage of solidarity and make it as productive as possible!

One of those projects is putting as many creative ideas and activities families and friends (specifically children) can do independently and together during times of deployment. Now, I know – we military wives are very creative during these times 😉 I have come up with quite a few of my own and others I have searched for as well. But I would love more!!

So here is my question to you:

What is your favorite activity, creative idea, gift, surprise, care package theme, and/or homemade letter/card that you sent or did while experiencing deployment on the homefront??

It can be ANYTHING! Please email me your idea at: Homefront_wife@yahoo.com

I am truly so excited to get this project going and out there to the public!

Thank you all for your support and suggestions!!!

PS: Book Review!!! A great book for military children!

“The Little Marine and the Flag” by Carissa J. Marine

My girls received this book as a gift and they (mainly my oldest – who can understand more) was so excited to have a book where she felt she could relate to. It’s a great, cute, and educational book every military child should have – especially children in U.S. Marine Corps families.

Here is an excerpt from the Website The Little Marine:

Every morning the Little Marine wakes up to the sound of a trumpet playing.  Jumping out of bed, he looks out his window over the trees to where his daddy works.  As he watches, he sees a huge American flag being raised up a very tall flagpole.  He loves seeing that big flag.  He often tells his daddy that he wants to go see it and stand under it some day.   

Author Carissa Marine invites you along on the Little Marine’s quest to learn more about the American flag.  Entertaining for young readers, The Little Marine and the Flag is a must read that also reminds even adult readers of treasured American values. 

 

Again, I can’t say how great this book is –  so far it is still the book of choice for bedtime story in my house!

You can go to The Little Marine site to purchase it or check out your local bookstore, like Books-a-Million.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday!! 🙂

Forever Young

As my birthday approaches all I have been thinking about is what another year means for me. Am I any wiser? Am I more experienced? Am I more wrinkled or saggy? Do I appear older? Should I feel old? Am I more mature or should I be more mature? Is time flying past me?

As a child all the way to teenage years I looked forward to my birthday as nothing more than presents, cake, and more privileges. It was a day I had the ‘license’ to do whatever I wanted! Birthday parties and outings were planned – every year out-doing the last. I especially remember my Sweet 16. I had an extravagant (Spanish-family type) party that resembled a wedding. I wore a big poofy white dress and had my cotillion in red flamenco-style dresses and the boys in black suits. My husband, then boyfriend, was also there is in his rank-less military uniform straight from boot-camp. I remember thinking that day I had became a real woman – 16 was the age of true maturity and independence – yea right! As the years past on, 18 was the last birthday I celebrated with the same enthusiasm I had as a child. After that, it was just another reason to go out and get together. 

Then 25 came and went.

That was the year that ‘age’ had a new definition. I wondered if now is when I could no longer be considered young or at least mid-20’s? Was it time to be called a late twenties woman and to accept that I was aging and had to start taking life seriously (or more so than before)? Yet, at the same time, I fell into the trap of anti-aging and began to ponder ways and ideas to manipulate my body’s normal transitions.

Women for years have been manipulating their bodies and appearances to come across as beautiful and young within their culture. Women succumb to many cultural traditions, from Chinese foot-binding, Burmese neck rings, African Lip Rings, Victorian corsets, to today’s anti-aging creams, plastic and cosmetic surgery, extreme dieting, and constant beautification of hair, nails, and make-up. All aiming to be the youngest, most beautiful, and sought-out woman in their community. 

You see, I come from a family of straight-forward ANTI-aging women. As a child I knew very well to never ask a woman their age. I watched my Mamita (my maternal grandmother) buy expensive creams until she found the perfect one, immediately dye her hair at the site of anything gray, constantly use lotions, and would hear her pass down secrets to my mother. The women in my family are always in constant worry about finding a wrinkle or gray strand of hair. Some more than others have facials on schedule, have nightly cream regimens, get their nails done weekly, never miss a hair dye appointment, get cellulite reducer massages, and even have had plastic and cosmetic surgery.

Basically, the older my sister and I get, the younger the older women in our family get.

My Mamita today is in the late stages of Alzheimers (bless her heart) but even with the disease her mind never ceases from asking for her lipstick – how is her hair – wanting her nails painted – and quickly snapping if you mention aloud she is ‘old’. I laugh with a heart full of love in her presence and I wonder if this is the future that awaits me – wrinkly, gray, saggy, soft, and in denial.

My Mamita at 81 years old

My Mamita, today at 81 years old!

I myself am in no way resistant to this anti-aging mentality the women of my family are infected with. I do wear make-up daily (cover-up, blush, and lip gloss at minimum), I do own a ‘pick me up’ bra, I dye my hair when I get bored of the color (which, actually, within the past year I have only done once), and I don’t normally mention my age. But – I don’t get my nails done, I have never had a facial, my lotion of choice is plain ‘ole Jergens, I only get a massage if my body hurts, and I have never done any extreme forms of beautification (such as purchasing expensive mascara).

My fears of aging are more in the lines of health and time passing me by too quickly and not completing my bucket list. We all know the saying, “they grow up so fast”, when looking at children. But I remember as a child, the days felt long, a month felt like forever, and a year felt like an eternity and now, within the past two years – days fly by, a month is quickly gone, and last year felt like yesterday. The older I get – the more I appreciate a second, a minute, an hour, a day – because if you’re not paying attention – it will pass you by.

I welcome my birthday as I did any other. Looking back into the past year I can’t believe where life has taken me. Last year, celebrating my birthday in Virginia, it never even crossed my mind that I would be back home with family and my husband would be deployed. I never knew I would spend a birthday without my husband. I never knew I had the courage and strength to raise my two girls alone – all while keeping my deployed husband active in their hearts, minds, and lives. I never knew that I would finally start sharing my writing and be out of the professional workforce. I never knew what it meant to truly lose a loved one. I never knew what it meant to see others around you begin to get sick. I never knew what it meant to be alone. I never really knew how much I took for granted. I never knew I would be feeling this way on my birthday.

Our birthdays are not about aging and appearance, it is about our life, our wisdom, our experience and that is why to the people who love us we will always be beautiful – even at 81! I look forward to growing old – because it will mean another year God has blessed me, another year I have my children, another year filled with experiences, and another year with my love.

I will embrace every wrinkle and every gray hair with open arms because they are symbols (or scars) of my life. Just this past year I have learned so much more about myself, my marriage, and my family – I can’t wait to see what I will know in the years to come.

I may never really aim to be forever young, even though I am partially anti-aging. All I know is that I will always aspire to be healthy and young at heart – and will greet life and its experiences as they come.

Tomorrow I will welcome an extra candle on my cake. It will represent my new wisdom, my new knowledge, and my new life (and possibly a wrinkle or two). And of course, you all know what my wish will be.

(Miss you beh, even more so on my Birthday)

To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent –

that is to triumph over old age.


— Thomas Bailey Aldrich

The (im)Perfect Military Wife

When one thinks of a military wife, the immediate poster type super mom and trophy wife comes to mind – which is the Perfect Military Wife. She is sweet, calm, always kind and sincere, knows everything about the military from ranks to benefits and history. She carries herself proper and her children are always well-behaved and neatly groomed. Her home is spotless and beautifully decorated. She cooks everything from breakfast to dessert, and welcomes everyone over for dinner. She is as fit as her husband and is always educating others on healthy eating habits. She is the most understanding woman you know and never complains about life in the military. She is involved one way or another in every event on base and volunteers her time constantly to anything related to the military.

Other military wives look up to her in admiration and constantly seek ways to resemble her in any form. You can read about her in popular military magazines and newspapers and see her receive awards and certificates of appreciation. She never has an excuse to help others and is the first person on line to help her community. Each and every task, errand, chore, and event is done with a big bright smile. Her husband, family, and the military is her air – life to her is about keeping it altogether, happy, and (well, like her) perfect.

Every military wife knows what it takes to be the super-military wife/mom. Our capes hang in our closets and the third invisible arm is always ready for any situation. We often hear about how strong, patient, tolerant, understanding, and loving the military wife is – and even though this all true in just about all military wives – we fail to hear about the (im)perfect wife that at times lives dormant within all of us and for some, more often than not.

The (im)perfect military wife has some of the same characteristics as the perfect one. She is kind, sweet, sincere, and loving. However, she may not always be in her Sunday best when shopping in the commissary. She can be found in the aisle of diapers and chicken with no make-up, an un-ironed shirt, comfortable mothering flats or sneakers, in a ‘bad hair-day’ cap, and possibly in (gasp) sweatpants or track-suit, all with a frazzled face.

When asked her husband’s rank, her cluttered mind may result in her quickly forgetting and pausing to think about it. Same goes for the chain of command, the ranks and their corresponding insignia. She has yet to learn every single acronym that exists in the military but still smiles and nods when confronted with one in conversation. She lacks the knowledge and detail of all military history but can throw a great BBQ for fourth of July.

When it’s time to pack up and move again to the next duty location – she is almost never organized but instead jittery and stressed. She usually waits until the last few days to pack or until the morning the movers come to put the ‘untouchables and valuables’ to the side. And even though she has done it a hundred times – Google is where she gets all her information (every single time) about Tricare, DEERs, entitlements, ID processes, and such.

The (im)perfect military wife strives to be healthy and fit, but when emotionally drained she loves to indulge on cupcakes and cookies and prefers the couch and a chick-flick as opposed to a treadmill and water bottle. A meal for the family sometimes comes from a frozen box that mysteriously converts into a warm meal when placed in the square magical electronic thingy. She fancies the thought of hosting a dinner or just coffee and sometimes even plans the whole event – but when it comes down to inviting, her shyness to meet and talk to new people shoves those ideas to the side. And when invited to similar events, in addition to the shyness, the anxiety of speaking about possible military topics she is not fully informed on take over and she declines the invite.

When deployment comes along, no matter how long, she temporarily gets upset at Uncle Sam and cries while cursing the military for taking her love away. She momentarily resents her husband for leaving her behind and then cries for the mishmash of feelings she is having. She yearns for husband daily and misses him constantly. She easily becomes vulnerable to sleep-less nights, toddler-like break downs, going over her budget, and forgetting the car needs an oil change.

She allows her children to misbehave every now and then when daddy is away. She sometimes spoils them in an effort to take away the sadness of deployment in their eyes. The children scream, cry, pout, and have tantrums every so often – but mostly when in crowded places. At times they beg for candy on the grocery line and even for a balloon on a stick all while she frantically searches for her ID card in order to shop. They spill ketchup on their shirts and are incapable of keeping their hair neatly done throughout the entire day.

The home of the (im)perfect military wife is just like her – (im)perfect. Piles of laundry await folding on the coach and there is usually something in the dishwasher, be it clean or dirty. Now and again the garbage overflows – all depending if the husband is deployed or not. People with allergies to dust must always give a 48 hour notice prior to visiting. And the dogs roam free like the kings and queens of the castle (need I say more).

Every year she aims to be more involved and active in the community and base events. She aspires to volunteer and ‘make a difference’ but her mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion limit her as she realizes she may just not be as ‘strong’ and put together as those military wives who do. You definitely don’t read about her in magazines and newspapers and you may not even notice her if she was right next to you.

The (im)perfect military wife and perfect military wife may be different in their public appearance, mannerisms, and child-rearing ways but the core of what makes a military wife is unchangeable.

No matter the situation a military wife never loses her love, support, understanding, and patience for her husband and the military. The military wife at the end of the day is able to balance and multi-task the day’s priorities. She has the power of cure-all kisses for her children and enjoys any moment spent with them (good or bad) because being in a military family you quickly learn how to appreciate time spent together. Although it may be expressed differently, a military wife always misses her husband when he is away.

A military wife truly cares for others, especially other military wives. They try to be involved at any level – even if it means donating items or monetary gifts anonymously. A military wife knows what sacrifice is and takes it with a grain of salt. She smiles when it comes to moving (again) only because she is aware that her reaction will reflect in her children’s reaction. A military wife never likes pity and finds it difficult to accept assistance. Most importantly, she prides herself in her family, her husband, and her country.

So next time you are on base or in the commissary and you notice the (im)perfect wife in her untied sneakers, track suit, hair in clip, with screaming and crying children searching for her car keys – before you say “oh my, look…” remember that she too is a military wife. She too is strong. She too is brave. She too is caring. She too is missing her husband. She too some days is me and she too some day may be you.

The Epitome of Lonesome Weekends…

 It’s another day – another night – another Saturday – another Sunday – another weekend spent alone without my husband.

Since my husband left for deployment, I have found weekends to be one of the most challenging experiences. My husband and I always look forward to the weekend like a guaranteed mini-vacation. It was time for family and to create great memories for our girls. Even if we went to the commissary or ran errands – we always incorporated a nice drive and/or dinner at a restaurant. Those days have vanished in the wind and now the weekends appear like nothing but a dark blur that vaguely has the same ambiance as before.

Besides toting my daughter to and from track and checking off my To-Do list, the weekends have converted to nothing but a web of routine and I find myself stuck right in the center. I robotically get up, get the girls ready and dressed, and get us moving out the door only to return home and continue our habitual practices of the week – bathe, read, and off to bed.

At times these weekends can be a mixed blessing. There are days that I am so emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted that doing nothing is a haven for my heart, soul, and body. I submerge myself in my bed and cuddle into my pillow while the girls take a midday nap or watch a movie. It’s as good as it gets some days.  

Today it was what most would consider a lazy day – but for me it was more of a lonesome one. I woke up unmotivated to peel myself off from the bed and let alone remove my pajamas. Even with my extra-large cup of coffee, I lacked the enthusiasm to enjoy the nice day with my girls and moved more like a zombie not once letting the sun stroke my face. I relentlessly confined myself to the four corners of my bedroom all day – pressing on my pillow like a stone trapping a fly, squeezing it almost flat – dreaming and longing for it to be my husband here with me but instead I got a fluff of feathers and all I could do is bury my tears and fears beneath it.

I was tremendously (and guilt-fully) grateful my mother took my oldest daughter for the day and right when my toddler woke up from her mid-day nap my father was here to entertain her until about my mother returned. Although I know that my family and friends tell me there is nothing wrong with taking a break – being a military wife, it’s as if you are molded to just keep it going and accustom yourself to everything around you all while doing it alone. It’s very difficult to ask for day to myself – even if it’s to just be limited to my bedroom to sulk. However, I can easily grasp that what I am feeling today should only burden me and never my daughters. It’s not fair to them to have ‘mommy looking sad’ as the day passes and (even worse) restraining them to our home because I have no desire to see the light outside of a bulb on a ceiling or stand. Even on my most gloomy days, I become elated knowing that my daughters are off getting spoiled for the day – no limits, no boundaries, no impatience, no sad faces, and (most of all) no yelling or crying. 

Every day is not like this of course. I do my best to maintain busy and to go out to visit friends and family as often as possible. And I am usually invited ‘somewhere’ just about each weekend. It’s just every now and then it hits me like freight train with no brakes that my husband isn’t home. Surprisingly, I find it especially more difficult on nights I do go out to have a nice enjoying night be it solo, with friends, or with my daughters. Those are the nights I find it to be the most difficult drives home, walks to the front door, and to fall asleep. Going home after having a good night and seeing everyone enjoy each other only reminds me more of how I am the only one going home alone. Just about everyone within my circle has their person to go home to and it’s here where I get the heart-breaking reminder like bull-horn two inches away from my ear that I don’t have my person to go home too.

It is here within these moments coming home lying on my pillow I learned that the eye, even when sealed, can still trickle tiny tears in tune with every beat from my shattered heart – but although minuscule, they are hefty in sentiment. Each tear reminded me of how as much as I try to close out my emotions from feeling lonely – no matter the resistance it will always seep through. It doesn’t matter how I spend my day – blissfully with daughters, shopping listlessly, reading, writing, have dinner and wine with good friends, moping at home in my pajamas – the feelings at the end of the night will remain the same. My bed is large and I lay alone in it. 

You don’t know what empty feels like until the person you love that loves you back completely want to be together but are powerless in any efforts to make it real. An empty heart is a heart that is limited. That piece that makes it beat is dead. It is dark and rough but easily converted back to what it knows as ecstasy. I know my heart will be filled again. And I know my heart will beat again and that it will intense and soft – it just won’t be that way again until my husband is home.

I know I am lucky to have family and lifelong friends around that can assist me in days like this but my heart truly feels for the other military wives who don’t have the same fortune as I – to have a moment or break every now and then. I know it is probably a standard emotion that comes along as the wife on the home front through deployment and that this too shall pass – but for me, the lonesome weekends has been the most difficult. I am aware too that this deployment will not be the last one we experience- I just hope next time around, which I know I most likely will not be around family and friends, that it will get easier and painless (I’m skeptical – but I will hold on to hope).

“Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night.  I miss you like hell. “

 ~Edna St Vincent Millay