Now that you're gone...

Honey,

I miss you. So much. What happens now that you're gone? It seems like it's been forever since I've been in your arms. I don't like this... this whole being a part from each other thing. It hurts too much, you know. I had to worry about you enough while you were here. How can I when you're half a world away? All it does is keep me up. I worry that your plane won't quite make it back to base. I worry that while you're in a Humvee, you'll drive along and hit an IED. I know these are normal worries in this situation, but what happens when you don't make it back safely? You have to. You promised.

Baby,

We talked about this, remember? We both knew it'd be hard, but this is what's paying my way. I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this for us. I'm doing this for that baby that's on the way. Yes, obviously there are risks, but we're always careful. I promise I'll make it through. I still have yet to meet my unborn son. No person and no thing can keep me from that. Say hello to the family for me, and don't forget I love you.

Honey,

You have no idea how nice it was to get that letter. It's the most recent thing from you and I'm glad to hear everything is fine. I've fallen asleep with that piece of paper on your pillow just to catch your lingering scent. Your brothers miss you so much and I can't even imagine what your mom is going through. We are all very proud of you and your bravery, the way you take charge and get the task done, and we are greatly anticipating your return in three months. The baby is supposed to be due any day now. Oh, how I wish you could be there.

Baby,

I'm sorry I haven't been able to write for a few weeks. We've had some troubles with the locals and our base has been under constant bombardment. I can't wait for a long warm shower with you and a soft bed to sleep in. I think that's what's keeping me going anymore. That and our baby. Our sweet little Michael. I hope he has your beautiful eyes sweetheart, but I wouldn't want him to have your athletic.... "talents". I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch his birth. I promise I'll make up for it when I get back. Only a month left. I can't wait.

Honey,

Why must time go by so slowly now that I only have two weeks until I see you? It's so hard to stay patient. Michael doesn't have my eyes; he has your beautiful chocolate brown ones and every time I look at them I see you. They make me miss you, but I just hug him a little tighter. I don't want to let him go honey. I don't want to lose him. He hasn't cried too much... I guess he's turning out to be the complete opposite of me. At least for now. It's nice. Sometimes I actually get sleep. I can't wait for you to meet him. He's so beautiful.



Honey,

It's only been a few days since I've last written to you. A few military officers stopped by yesterday afternoon. They said the typical "he was real brave", "he did his job", "he died with honor", but I don't think I heard half of the rehearsed words falling from their mouths. We were so close love. You would have been home next week.  Now what am I supposed to do? Michael has gotten melancholy, and I'm afraid to visit your family or mine. I'm just not strong enough right now. Michael is all I have, and all he does is remind me of you. You would have been a great father honey; you were a great son, brother, and husband. I love you so much and I know some day we'll be able to be together again.