I took a break. I loaded up the car and my daughter and I drove 864 miles to the place where her father and I had met. We spent Halloween with my sister and nephew. We drove to my parents house in The Middle of Nowhere. We had a short visit with her father in the California desert where he was assisting another unit with a training mission. We went to Disneyland...twice. And I began to find some peace for myself.
Fast forward to Christmas. We spent a week with the Soldier's family and celebrated, and we shared gifts and we enjoyed time together. I love the Soldier's family at least as much as I love him. Maybe more (well there are more of them than just the one of him, right?!).
Back in my home state, we had two small Christmas parties. First with my sisters and their families. Then with my father's family. There was not nearly enough time but the clock was ticking to get the Soldier back to that rainy place, since he was due back to work on the 3rd.
Two days. It took two days of being back in this house for me to break down in tears while lying in bed next to him. There is happiness somewhere in this house, I know there is, there has to be! But I cannot find it. I am not angry, or hurt. I am just here.
Holding On
