Journal 2

For the first time ever I knew what it felt like to have something I loved taken from me. My dad had just sat me and my mom down on our round, wooden table and explained to my mom that he was being deployed to Iraq. My vision went a bit blurry and I felt a tear run down my face. I did not exactly get the whole concept of deployment being that I had only been five, but I did understand that the person who had protected my mom and I for as long as I can remember was leaving us. My birth father did not understand what it meant to be a father; therefore, my dad stepped in to take his place. He had always been my hero for this reason and for the unconditional love he had for me; hence why him leaving us had been devastating. I looked over to my mom and saw how sad she was, she had been crying for a while and I hated to see her cry it made me feel pain as well even if I did not always know what the reason for her crying was. However, I felt like I was not in any place to be crying at that very moment. I had to be strong, for my mom, even if it was difficult. My throat was aching from keeping the tears back, but I had to be strong. My parents bed was huge, it was my comfort place. Every time I had a bad dream the bed was there to comfort me, the soothing way the comforter felt cool when I layed down and the way I always felt safe there was what comforted me. This had been where I went to let it all out. My parents came in and gave me a big hug they explained that everything was going to be okay.

My dad was gone, and it was just me and my mom, the days grew longer and although I had my mom by my side, I missed the excitement of anxiously waiting for my dad to come home. At times, my mom and I would look through videos and photos of our family and it made me feel better to see my dad’s face. We had been writing a letter to my dad on our small table, when I accidently spilled all of my bright red cranberry juice all over the stationary. I wanted to cry, however, my mom just looked at me and laughed. She said my dad wouldn’t mind a bit of juice on his letters. The long months seemed to never end, but then one day my mom sat me down and told me that we were going somewhere. She would not explain where and I was excited. It was a warm sunny day and as we drove I could smell the fresh grass from the farm fields and the animals that were on all the farms. My dad loved Green Day, and for this reason my mom usually played it in the car when he was gone. I loved singing along, though it felt like we had been in the car for hours. We got off the car and I saw many families with posters cheering, laughing, and even crying as these giant white buses approached us. The sky was bright, almost happy like and my mom and I stepped onto the freshly cut grass. I did not understand what was going on; then, as I peered out through the crowd I saw men in the same outfits my dad would wear stepping out of the bus. They were wearing camo all over and big tan boots, they all looked fairly similar. All of a sudden I saw someone who looked very familiar, but at first I couldn’t exactly figure out who I had been looking at. Then I got it! It was my dad! He was home! I couldn’t help but burst into tears. I was so happy, I grabbed my mom, she picked me up, and we walked towards him. As she put me down I watched my dad drop to his knees and I ran as fast as I could and jumped into his arms. His strong arms held me tight and he smelled like dirt, yet I didn’t mind. I was shaking, so many emotions ran through me at once; although, all I could do was cry. At that point I never wanted to let go, my mom came to join us and it felt like our family was whole again.