This afternoon, I watched a Hallmark movie. They all make me cry, but this one was about a woman whose husband was a Navy pilot during WWII and was listed as MIA, but she never stopped waiting for him to come home. She was pregnant when he left, and he never met his son. Talk about a tear jerker! I cried through the whole thing. I guess after feeling the way I did last night, missing Chad so much, hating this half life without him, I should have known better than to watch it. Lil Bit crawled up into my lap for nap time and I had to wipe the tears from her cheeks that had run down mine.
The movie was part of the Hallmark Channel Anniversary celebration so every commercial break was an emotional reminder of how Hallmark cards and recordable books can be so very special in our lives. I normally wouldn't get so touched, but this year without Chad I was worried about our little girl not knowing her father.
Right before he left, I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, All the Ways I Love You. On the back of the book is a note asking if the book has meant something to you, to write to Hallmark and let them know. I've considered writing them about how important the book has been to our family. Something along the lines of the following:
When my husband and I married, we knew we would never have any biological children together. We thought about adopting, but weren't sure we would ever be able to afford it. After years of living as frugally as possible, all the stars aligned and we brought home our precious baby girl.
My husband is a soldier and misses a lot of his family's lives. We were so thrilled when our daughter was born when he was home. He was able to spend the week she was in the NICU with us and most of the first three months of her life, including the most special day of finalizing her adoption.
He left for Iraq a week later. She was three months old. She was so small, still such a newborn. I worried about her first year being fatherless. I worried about how much he would miss and also how much she would lose not having her daddy, the snuggles, the first milestones, the bedtime stories.
So I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, and my husband carefully recorded each page and locked the recording the day before he deployed. We started reading it daily that night. I cried when I heard his voice crack on the last line. She was captivated from the first time she heard it. Every time we read it, she stops squirming and settles in, staring intently at each page, listening closely.
As she got old enough I could hold the phone to her ear, my heart melted when her face lit up at his voice like I had never seen her smile on the phone with anyone else. She recognized his voice, she knew her father. Yesterday, she even said "Da da" on the phone to him.
We have a few weeks left to go before he gets to come home for R&R and a few months before he comes home for good. I worry about his safety everyday, and I worry about his daughter getting to know her father, but at least I know when he comes home, she will know the sound of his voice.
A lot of soldiers come home to children that are so little they've forgotten their dads or moms. The children are nervous or afraid of the stranger in their homes. All mommy or daddy wants to do is hug them hard and make every second count to make up for the many that were missed. I can't imagine the heartbreak of a parent whose child is afraid of them or too shy to go to them, but I am hopeful that my husband will not ever have to know that sadness because my daughter sees his pictures around the house and hears him read her a bedtime story every night.
As an Army wife, we do all we can to maintain the house and the family while our soldiers are gone. I have a Teddy Bear in Army uniform, pictures of him in her crib at daycare and all around our house, and his voice in a special book that reminds her not only of how her daddy sounds, but how much he loves her everyday in every way. And that has made all the difference to my precious little girl and her far away daddy, who nightly says, "I love you round and round the world. I love you through and through. And when it seems impossible to love you more . . . I do."
The movie was part of the Hallmark Channel Anniversary celebration so every commercial break was an emotional reminder of how Hallmark cards and recordable books can be so very special in our lives. I normally wouldn't get so touched, but this year without Chad I was worried about our little girl not knowing her father.
Right before he left, I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, All the Ways I Love You. On the back of the book is a note asking if the book has meant something to you, to write to Hallmark and let them know. I've considered writing them about how important the book has been to our family. Something along the lines of the following:
When my husband and I married, we knew we would never have any biological children together. We thought about adopting, but weren't sure we would ever be able to afford it. After years of living as frugally as possible, all the stars aligned and we brought home our precious baby girl.
My husband is a soldier and misses a lot of his family's lives. We were so thrilled when our daughter was born when he was home. He was able to spend the week she was in the NICU with us and most of the first three months of her life, including the most special day of finalizing her adoption.
He left for Iraq a week later. She was three months old. She was so small, still such a newborn. I worried about her first year being fatherless. I worried about how much he would miss and also how much she would lose not having her daddy, the snuggles, the first milestones, the bedtime stories.
So I bought one of Hallmark's recordable books, and my husband carefully recorded each page and locked the recording the day before he deployed. We started reading it daily that night. I cried when I heard his voice crack on the last line. She was captivated from the first time she heard it. Every time we read it, she stops squirming and settles in, staring intently at each page, listening closely.
As she got old enough I could hold the phone to her ear, my heart melted when her face lit up at his voice like I had never seen her smile on the phone with anyone else. She recognized his voice, she knew her father. Yesterday, she even said "Da da" on the phone to him.
We have a few weeks left to go before he gets to come home for R&R and a few months before he comes home for good. I worry about his safety everyday, and I worry about his daughter getting to know her father, but at least I know when he comes home, she will know the sound of his voice.
A lot of soldiers come home to children that are so little they've forgotten their dads or moms. The children are nervous or afraid of the stranger in their homes. All mommy or daddy wants to do is hug them hard and make every second count to make up for the many that were missed. I can't imagine the heartbreak of a parent whose child is afraid of them or too shy to go to them, but I am hopeful that my husband will not ever have to know that sadness because my daughter sees his pictures around the house and hears him read her a bedtime story every night.
As an Army wife, we do all we can to maintain the house and the family while our soldiers are gone. I have a Teddy Bear in Army uniform, pictures of him in her crib at daycare and all around our house, and his voice in a special book that reminds her not only of how her daddy sounds, but how much he loves her everyday in every way. And that has made all the difference to my precious little girl and her far away daddy, who nightly says, "I love you round and round the world. I love you through and through. And when it seems impossible to love you more . . . I do."
No comments:
Post a Comment