truth comes in peaceful moments

Sometimes, truth comes in peaceful moments. Sometimes clarity comes in all the chaos of the universe, like the eye of a storm or the calm ocean before a hurricane.  Sometimes, all you have to do is look up at the night sky and see the moon glowing and reflecting light of the clouds to see the beauty in everything. I close my eyes and think of all the yesterdays in my life. I think about the happy memories I have had and the sad memories that still hold a slight glimpse of happiness and those memories that I can't figure out how to feel because they are tainted now by things that happened later. 

I remember my father as my hero but sometimes I'm angry with him for things he did while he was alive. Secrets he never shared, that he couldn't share. Things he said that he shouldn't have said. But I've come to the realization that I will never be able to confront him and make him say he was sorry and that he was wrong, so instead, I have to find that part of me that is willing to forgive his wrongs and see what he did for me instead. And most of the time, I succeed, but other times, I still feel that anger mixed with sadness. That feeling when Daddy's little girl realizes her Daddy isn't a superhero... that he's just a man. I didn't realize that until it was too late to have that talk with him. The one that bares all to honest scrutiny. The talk that says "Look at me and see what your lessons taught me, look at me and see what you did right... look at me and see what you did wrong." That talk will never happen and it saddens me but at the same time, I know he would be sorry and ask for me to forgive him and I know that if I could just have one more hug, I would. 

The same cannot be said about my exes, who all cheated on me and caused me to distrust men so much. I had one cheat on me with multiple women, another use an online dating site while we lived together. One who slept with a good friend of mine and others who shattered my trust. I remember things that I recall as happy moments but the love I felt is now destroyed for them, that I get angry that I share those memories with them, that moments of my life are tainted with their faces and their would-be love. It causes me to distrust my life sometimes, even to distrust my husband, who has never earned a single bit of that feeling but deals with it because he loves me.

My husband is the only man I've ever known who hasn't betrayed me in any way. He loves me, for better and for worse. Over the past few days, I've had time to think and to contemplate things. I've had time to wonder if he would ever hurt me or neglect me because I am "not good enough" as I've heard so often before. But because of what I've been going through, with a major dental surgery that left my face swollen and bruised and me hiding in bed away from the world and seeing how much he loves me, what he'll do for me, I know I have no reason to worry. He has taken me from this place where my confidence was nearly shattered and brought me to a place where it gets shaken but never breaks. He comforts me, spoils me, amazes me, with everything he does. I love him with every fiber of my being, even when I don't show it. 

When I met him, I wasn't sure I would love him. I liked him, a lot. But I had just had a major heartbreak and wasn't ready to commit myself to him. Well two years later, we are together, in love and married. He took my children into his heart as if they were always his and drives them to dance class and soccer practice, fixes them breakfast so I can sleep in a little longer. He brings me flowers and tells me he loves me as often as possible. We rarely leave the room or hang up the phone without saying it. There is never a time he leaves the house without giving me a kiss. Some mornings he comes into our room and cuddles after PT until he has to leave for work. Some nights, he puts off homework so we can cuddle and watch a movie or a show together. He does the dishes for me and helps me with the cleaning. He encourages me to feel whatever I'm feeling, trusts me to be honest with him as I trust him for the same. We rarely fight (we've only had one "big" one and it ended quickly with both of us apologizing for our behavior). We know how each other tick and we know how each other reacts and what we really mean when we say something. We know each other's flaws and we never hold them against each other. We each have annoying habits and we deal with them honestly and come to agreements about certain ones and let the others slide. We talk about our finances together, he has an account on his own, I have an account of my own and we share an account, so we each have money to spend separately and money we spend together as a family. We support each other in everything. In all of my life, I've never had a "we" quite like us. 

Today is another day of our love growing, expanding. He shows me with every small act that he loves me and I show him that I love him with every act. Today, he had to work and since I have a swollen face and a black eye, I'm refusing to leave my house until my face is back to normal, he came home to bring me a milkshake and to take our daughter (because she really is OURS, not my ex who gave dna but Steve's and mine because we love her and our son with every action and every daily chore that revolves around them) to her dance class. I gave him my debit card from my account to pull out money for an order I placed by mistake to his card and to pick up pizza for him and the kids (I can't eat anything solid yet). And he came home with pizza and change. He told me about Lily's dance class and what he did while she was at it. I don't think we even have secrets from each other in any way. I hear about his day at work (whether I want to or not, haha) and he hears about mine at home with the kids (whether he wants to or not, haha). When I go out, I tell him what I did, with or without friends and he does the same. Tonight, he's watching an 80s movie called "Escape from NY" and explained it to me, even though I didn't care, I listened and told him it sounded bizarre. He asked me how my show was and I told him and I know he didn't care but we talk, we communicate on big issues and small ones. And today, well, today was just another example of how well we work together. 

I think, somehow, all the shitty stuff that happened in my life lead me to him. All the mistakes I made, choices I made, good and bad, all of that lead to him. He is better than I ever dreamed. And I'm so proud of him. So damn proud to be his wife and his soul mate and his best friend. 

The other day I got mad at his family for not seeing him the way I do. For not seeing this amazing man, with a Masters degree nearly finished (May 12th!!!!) and a great career as an Army Captain, with a Bronze star under his belt already. A man who has amazing values and strength and enough compassion to be a great leader for his soldiers that he'll have in less than 2 years. A man who puts our family first, above all else. A man who would do anything in the world to keep us all happy. A man whose convictions are strong enough that he can say no to my impulsiveness (when it's wrong to be impulsive) and a man who is strong enough to take on a pre-made family without questioning it. A man who wants to build our family, who wants to provide us with an amazing life... A man who is so utterly perfect that his flaws and annoying traits are so insignificant. I guess I'm just so proud and in love that it hurt me when he told me that none of his family knew how close he was to graduating with his masters, how none of them remembered how he received his Bronze Star... I think it bothered me more than my family somewhat ignoring me. After all, he grew up with his and they know less about him (but think they know everything there is to know) than my family knows about me. And that's just sad to me. 

Sometimes, truth comes in peaceful moments. Sometimes, clarity comes within the chaos. And sometimes, all you have to do is open your heart to it. 

I know I rambled alot here, and for that I'm sorry, but this was what has been on my mind today and I just had to get it out... 

Oh and one more thing, my homestate of New Jersey are total morons for even suggesting they lower the flag to half-mast for an alcoholic junkie. She doesn't deserve that. Only our REAL heroes deserve that kind of respect 

God Bless the Troops, Firefighters, Police Officers and EMTs that die in the line of duty. 

Love,

For now & Forever,

Leah

Housework is work sometimes

Whew... What a day this was. I started the day at 8am with no pain meds because I had too much to do... I wanted to get all the things done on my list and I think I accomplished alot.

I did all my kids laundry, folded it, hung it up and put it away. (you know what had to be). Then I did my laundry, then Lily's bedding, then Steve's clothes, then the towels, then Jax's bedding. Now our body pillows are in the washer and dryer and I finally feel like I'm done with Laundry til Thursday (which will suck, because my procedure is the day before.)

I also managed to get the livingroom and the kids rooms completely cleaned. Cleaned out Steve's uniform closet (I now have two complete uniforms to send in for a ACU purse for cheap) and cleaned the hallway. I reorganized so much that I feel like the house is in better shape, which is great, because starting Wednesday I'm going to be hurting.

After all that, I was feeling frustrated so I went to the gym. I ran half a mile, did 2000m on the row machine, did 15 body pullups, 65lbs leg presses 20 reps/2 sets, 50lbs arm curls and 35 inclined sit ups. I took it easy because of my back but I did feel like I got alot accomplished. Even my muscles are happy now.

Now I've taken my meds and I'm ready for sleep, but I just wanted to update. Tomorrow I call to find out what time on Wednesday I'll get my procedure done. I'm hoping after 1430 just so hubby can go pick up his orders finally.

Love,
For Now & Forever,
Leah


PS. Four years ago today, a great man died that I loved very much. I love and miss you, Poppy...

Today I was born... 24 years ago

Older now than I was before, younger still than I plan to be.

It is my birthday. My twenty-fourth. I always dread my birthday but I was really looking forward to it. Until that is, Steve came home on Monday and told me he had Staff Duty. Now, I get to spend the day alone with the kids again. We postponed my birthday dinner until tomorrow. We are going for sushi. I LOVE sushi.

Today I'm just hanging out, doing laundry and watching Bones. Steve taught Jax how to say happy birthday to me and Jax gave me a kiss and told me happy Birthday, Lily told me right after that. It's the first year someone else cared enough to teach my kids that. Tonight, I am having a cake that I bought myself with the kids before I dye my hair blonde then red. I want it to be really bright. I hope it looks awesome too.

I can't wait until my wedding day... I have red and white roses as my bouquet, my daughter is wearing red and white, my son is wearing red, black and white, my HUSBAND is wearing his Dress Blues aka Class A's aka ASUs. My bridesmaids are wearing red and blue dresses (2 red, one blue) and everything will be beautiful.

My Chaplain signed off yesterday on everything. We went over the ceremony and he agreed to the scripture verse I wanted and the moment of silence in honor of my father.

He also told us that he has confidence in us as a couple. That we have a great chance of having a lengthy and loving marriage. I just about cried. However, I did cry later, when my neighbor, a retired Chaplain (he was shot six times once) brought by a wedding gift for us. It's a lighted chapel. He said that it signifies the commitment he sees in our eyes, for each other, the faith and love we share with eachother and God. I was so touched and had tears in my eyes.

No one can tell me that the Military isn't full of these amazing men. Former and Current. I'm sure the future generations will hold just as many wonderful people too.

Anyways, I have to go. But Happy Birthday to me :)

Much love,
For now and Forever,
Leah

My life now... it's amazing

So I just wrote a blog for my ex's fiance. We had a big blow up between us early last year. It seems strange to me now, considering where my life has gone. I went from struggling every day to being so happy and comfortable and having all my dreams come true. I hate to admit this, but my part in everything that went down was not a small one but I am grateful for how I can look at that past mistake as it is... a past mistake.

I am, however, sad that today is the 2nd anniversary of my father's death. Today brings back memories of the day he died. I think the reason I clung so hard to my ex after our break up was how he was to me that day and the horrible days that followed. I had a broken heart due to my father's death and I couldn't see past the darkness except for the comfort I had to cling to. I miss my father, with all my heart but honestly, my father's death meant my life had to change... and it has. Not only did I find my true love but I found my life's purpose, my  goal in life. I am a wonderful mother, whose kids are growing into kind, respectful, polite and playful kids. They are happy, healthy and now have a man who is so much like my father, it sometimes takes my breath away. I, now, have what I'd always wanted and never dreamed of... a soon-to-be husband who loves me completely, who laughs with me, who holds me while I cry, who wants my life to be more about joy and less about surviving. I am marrying someone above the caliber I thought I could. I am marrying a Captain, I am part of the world I felt most at home with again, I am blessed with a comfortable home, plenty of food in my fridge and freezer, room for my children to grow, a community I understand and appreciate. I am truly happy. Truly in love.

This morning, I broke down and cried. Steve was at PT when I woke up and the day... what today is... hit me. I curled up on the couch and cried. When he came home to change, he sat next to me, pulled me into his arms and just held me while I cried. He only let go when I was ready. He kissed me and told me that my father would be proud of me, and then he whispered that he loved me and couldn't wait until I become his wife. I know how blessed my life has become.

Today also held something joyous. My wedding dress arrived. It's the most beautiful gown I have ever owned and probably will. My wedding will be the most wonderful day of my life, not counting the day I had Lily or the day I had Jax, or the days I have Steve's children, which we have planned to start trying for in a year. It is my joy that I can have a big family, a beautiful wedding, and spend the rest of my life with the man I have always wished for but never believed existed.

So, I am not angry anymore. I have moved forward and I am happy. I am in love, I am a million adjectives to describe perfect joy but words aren't enough. What is enough is the knowledge that my life is worth it, that our lives together are worth it, that my children will always be loved and cared for and  comfortable. They do not want for anything, they are spoiled with more toys than they need, more clothes than they need, and have more love than I ever imagined they would, after all my mistakes. We go to church, we eat meals together as a family, we smile and laugh... we read stories before bed, we play together, we do things as a family.

And most importantly, we will always have that.

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Daddy, I miss you still, I always will. You were my first hero and always will be.

Rest in Peace, always loved, forever remembered, endlessly missed.

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Steve, I can't wait to become your wife. Only 15 days!!!! I love you, for now and forever!!! xoxox

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Crystal, be happy, be in love, have the life you want. I hope you do. :)

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Love always,

Leah

Father's Day 2011

Of course I am missing my first Hero today.

I'm just like my Father. Strong, stubborn, determined, loyal, impatient, loving, kind, ruthless when wronged, and a big believer in what the Military does. You see, just like my father, I am Military to the bone. It's in our DNA. We bleed red, cry tears of blue and dream in bright white.

♥ your strength is the power that carried me through Your kindness for weakness I never mistook I worried you often, yet you understood that life is so fleeting, these troubles won't last forever inspired me truly you did from the start to not be afraid and to follow my heart there's a piece of you with me they can't tear apart

Daddy, I love you. I miss you and I think about you every single day...

Goodbye... again

It's been six years, Tommie. I still miss you and love you with that part of me that has remained untouched since you left my world. I miss you. I will see you up in Heaven after my time down here is over. Until then, watch over my Soldier and keep him safe. You and I both know that I don't have great luck with deployments. And say hi to my Dad and Grandpa when you get a chance. See you when it's my time.

Vultures circling

Shadows of thoughts are haunting me, teasing me with their whispers that I can’t quite make out. Yet I know they are there. I hear them inside my mind as I see their memories, glimpses and clips of what once was. The thoughts circling my mind like vultures in the sky, I know they will attack at any moment and force my sanity to run for cover, or what’s left of it, at least. All around me are weeds of bitter memories threatening to overtake the softer, more vulnerable parts of me,  the blossoms of hope where around it is desolation and loneliness.  

I was prepared for this life, you know. The constant moving and new people, rules and regulations, conformity among uniforms. I was a daughter, born and raised within the Military. A part of me always knew that I’d marry a Serviceman (and although my father was air force, I’d always been partial to Marines) but after a failed relationship with a Soldier and the loss of the only Marine I’d ever been able to love, I had given up that dream. I still expected my father to walk me down the aisle one day, but that day would never come.

On October 27^th, 2009, I had my entire life changed. That was the day my father, TSgt Charles T. Gose, died. Not even two years ago and every day I miss him. Every day I look at his flag that I received on my twenty-second birthday in Honor of his unfailing service. He was supposed to retire the next month. I remember when I got the news. I was so incredibly unprepared for it. I thought I died. In my heart, I suppose I did, at least for a while. I slept all day, not even caring about myself, only getting up to make meals and fix snacks and change diapers. I didn’t clean, I didn’t brush my hair and I didn’t eat for nearly a week.

At first, it was this cold, blinding pain. When a daughter loses her father, especially one who was always proud of him, who was planning his retirement surprise, who loved him beyond any other human (besides her own children), she doesn’t see it coming. The shock of it was the hard part. It came so close to my birthday (I was to turn twenty-two in just five days).  When the funeral was scheduled for my birthday, I didn’t even care. I’d lost the best man in my life, my Daddy, my one constant hero, no matter what. I know he loved me unconditionally and I lost so much of myself when I lost him.

 For six months I was so lost. I finally managed to make it back to my feet and back to being a mother, but at the time I was in an unhealthy relationship and that ended on March 1, 2010. When we ended, I was broken. I had lost my father and I’d lost the only man I relied on since and it hurt. But with encouragement from my friend, Kelsy, I started going on dates (nothing serious, just a few dates that led nowhere) and at the same time, I’d registered for a pen pal program with Military. Through that, I met my friend, Eric and my love, Steve. (I recently introduced Eric to my friend Megan and I see amazing things in their future).

 Steve was amazing, funny and smart; compassionate and caring; kind and generous; understanding and romantic. I really liked him from the start. He made me laugh and listened to me cry on days where I was upset and did his best to make me smile. In July, we met face-to-face and spent an incredible few days together, but he left and we made no promises except to write letters and consider each other.

He never stopped trying though. He sent flowers, a beautiful bouquet of white lilies, while I was preparing for my move back to the states. He wrote me letters and I wrote him back. He called me every week and we talked as much as possible, considering where he was. I told him that I would wait for him and that I had been without the promise and he was so happy.

In January, after Lily’s fourth birthday, we had R&R, which was absolutely amazing. We decided then that I would move to Louisiana and be settled for when he came home, despite his previous feelings of not wanting to live with a woman he wasn’t married to. (Which leaves me wondering…  when… if?) When he drove back to the airport (he rented a car) and we said our goodbyes, we were both in tears. I couldn’t fight them off. I’d finally told him I loved him during our time together. And it hurt so much to let him go that I held on to him for over  an hour. It broke my heart to know he was just not there beside me anymore. I went back inside and I cried until a friend stopped by.

In March, I moved to Louisiana and it took a long time to get my furniture and with two kids 4 and under, it was the toughest move of my life. All alone and nothing in my house to keep them busy. A month later, my stuff finally arrived and April was a month of insanity to me, missing him, trying to get a life started here, picking up a creepy stalker instead. I spent my time alone, doing schoolwork and playing with my kids, mostly instead.  I also got attacked by some crazy bitch in April.

May brought Steve’s promotion and news of Osama Bin Laden’s death on the same day. I planned a playdate (which I will do again as soon as I feel better) and overall things improved a little. Except that I started feeling rundown.

Now it’s June and I really still feel sad. Memorial day weekend brought my Father’s death back into focus and I spent the whole weekend crying randomly.  My son turns three on Tuesday which is also bizarre to me. 

Next month is my first 4^th of July in the states since 2004. And it feels sad to think that I’m celebrating it with no one. My father is gone and my mother… well, needless to say the day my father died, she did to. (deep thoughts). My brothers and friends are scattered across this world with the Military and Steve is deployed.  I do have my children who will happily celebrate a holiday they get their face-painted and balloons from. Plus the fireworks should be visible from the house (or so Steve says). Other things are happening next month, including me going insane preparing for his homecoming. I wish he was here already so I didn’t have all that time to think and over-analyze and worry and fear. 

So soon the Knight in his dirtied camo armor will return to his redneck duchess in faded denim and flannel. He’ll come back from war, alive and safe, unharmed, to a household full of people who love him. The young princess sleeps with the picture of her Knight and her brother and the young prince is ready to give up his role as man-of-the-house to him. Their mother, his love, waits and every night sleeps alone, until he comes back home, back to her arms. She will finally feel safe and loved again soon, when his arms are folded around her and she hears his heart beat. Soon the Knight will return from war to a family awaiting him.

And I’m scared, because I've been through so much pain already and I finally found the one man who accepted all my flaws and faults, helped encourage me to gain my confidence, allowed me time to heal and come to grips on what happened before him. And now, my worst fear is that he won’t love me anymore….

The vultures come full circle, snacking on these feelings like field mice. I sit quietly here, alone, with these thoughts and so many more left unsaid, in the safety of the darkness the words hide from that which would destroy the remnants of my sanity.

Memorial Day, Monday May 30, 2011

I remember my father’s face and I realize that I’ll never see him again. I’m the daughter of a man who served and died under the American Flag. He believed with all his heart that it was his duty, his privilege to fight and die for his Country. He believed in Heaven’s Warrior Angels, that the gates of Heaven are guarded by those United States Servicemen who bravely stood and fought in the dead of night and the burning fires of the day. He believed the greatest gift a man could ever give was his life for his child’s freedom. He believed it was a fair trade, to die in place of another who could live. He believed there wasn’t a choice when it was you or your brothers, if you could save them, it was always them. I don’t know how many times he almost died. I don’t know how many times he almost didn’t make it home and I never will. Secret missions in foreign, far-away lands, danger around every corner, I’ll never know because it eventually caught up to him. He gave Death many others before his time came and when it did, he didn’t hesitate, but willingly went with his brother to the other side. My father is a warrior, even in his Death, for you see, he defends the kingdom of Heaven in all its Glory.

It's Memorial Day and it's a hard day for me. I am always saddened by the loss of life and the fact that it seems unpreventable in realistic terms. I love my friends and family that served. There is no greater love than that of a man willing to give up his life for his friend. God Bless those who serve, past, present and future.

Memorial Day Weekend

I hope that on this Memorial Day we can for a moment think about our military tribe. Families that at their core are not much different from other American families, the nation entrusts them with its safety and security and its future as a free people. They make up less than 1 percent of our citizenry, but bear disproportionately the burden of sacrifice.

If you are able, save for them a place inside of you and save one backward glance when you are leaving for the places they can no longer go. Be not ashamed to say you loved them, though you may or may not have always. Take what they have taught you with their dying and keep it with your own.

‎"There's a disconnect every day, but I think it's felt even more so on Memorial Day," said Paul Rieckhoff, executive director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America. "The average American family goes to the beach or goes to a barbecue. The average military family goes to a cemetery."

You see their faces, but you don't know. They are the children of war. Born of those who fought til the day they died. You would never know by just their faces but the badge of pride they wear upon their heart on their sleeve is a bright answer for the sacrifice "IT WAS NOT MADE IN VAIN" We, the children of those Heroes who answered that call, are honored to be theirs.

A soldier died in battle and went to the gates of heaven, where he met God. He said to God," Lord, I know I did many things i ain't proud of, and many more that you won't approve of, so if you send me to hell, I won't argue." God stood there, and then turned to the gatekeeper of heaven. "Let him in", he said. The gatekeeper, confused, asked why. God looked down at the soldier & said," This man just came from hell."

How does a soldier feel fighting a war?
Does he always know what he is fighting for?
Maybe he knows but doesn't understand,
why he is alone in a faraway land. 
Like so many others he is there for a cause,
And like the rest he doesn't pause.
He has a job that he does well,
even as his best friend beside him fell. 
How does he feel when he hears the news,
of violent protests from the ignorant few?
His shame is great, the pain goes deep
he feels compassion for the dead at his feet. 
Rioters can boast and carry signs,
about the war that has shook our time.
But when the call comes for them to go,
they burn their draft cards and make a show. 
How can a soldier be proud of his land,
when this type of people make a stand?
How can we show him we are glad he is there,
fighting for freedom and the ones who care? 
War is unfair in any way of life,
and all involved must pay the price.
But the soldier is proud to keep us free,
stop and think..........
Shouldn't you be?

 

Six years ago

Six years. I can't believe it's been six years. Sometimes I think about you so much that whole days are spent wondering where you are, wondering if I'll see you again one day... I wonder what your life would be like. Would you have a son? Would he have your eyes? Six years. It's a long time.

You really don't know how much your absence has left me stumbling around blind. In six months, we would have been married for six years. At least I like to think we would have been married that long, longer still. I like to imagine that you never left for Iraq. I like to pretend that didn't happen sometimes. It doesn't change it. It doesn't change that six years ago, you left. That six years ago, today, was the last time I saw your face. I try to pretend that didn't happen. And maybe in some reality it didn't. But in this one... I can't forget.

I remember the news. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and you had taken every ounce of happiness with you. I don't remember much after the Chaplain's eyes met mine. I became aware of a vast emptiness in my life. You were gone and this stranger, this man telling me that you were in a better place, stood in front of me. How could that be true when I wasn't with you, I thought. How could you be somewhere better when you'd told me the best place was with me? I couldn't think, I couldn't focus. The loss was all around me, the pain was constant and excruciating. I'd lost the first boy I'd ever loved. The boy I'd planned to marry. The boy who had kissed me first, who had given me my first valentine's day gift, who danced with me at a dance first. I'd lost the first boy who had touched my heart and soul and body. When I lost you, everything changed.

I remember when you were ten years old. Do you? Do you recall the first time we met? I was seven and scrawny and thought I was every match to you. You got mad when I did better at a race and pushed me down into the mud. Over the years things would change. We went from two kids who fought to two teenagers in young love. On your 18th birthday, you told me you were enlisting in the Marine Corps. I remember the fear I felt at that moment. I wasn't old enough to keep a Marine happy, only 15 and not nearly experienced enough. I hadn't even given you my body yet but you promised no pressure and you meant it. You waited nearly two more years. 

Your graduation was such a wonderful day. Your mother was so proud of you. She kept leaning over and whispering "That's my son! Can you believe it?" Her very own Hero son. I remember looking at you in your uniform for the first time and thinking "wow, this works." I remember your confident smile, it was so different than the one you had before the Marines trained you. You were no longer awkward or clumsy.

The following summer we went to your Dad's wedding and sat at the wedding party table. I didn't know anyone, not even your Dad but you said it wasn't important, they didn't know you, so knowing me wasn't a priority. I will never forget the pain in your eyes when you said that. That was our last summer together.

The day you were buried was the hardest day of my life until that point, in fact, it may be one of the hardest days I've ever gone through. I sat next to your mother, on the same side I sat when we first saw you become a Marine. I held her hand and this time there was no excitement. I think we were both so hallowed out and our strength was gone... I remember trying to stand, to put my hand on your casket one more time, I felt so weak. And now six years later, I feel a flash of pain, 100 times less great and it still hurts beyond what I ever expected.

Things are different now. The life that we were meant to live ended with you. The memories you gave me are mine. And you taught me so many important lessons... I learned so much about love and life and pain of loss from you...

I am with a good man. He's a Soldier, an officer, so different from you. I love him very much and he makes me feel like I matter more than anyone else. It took me a long time to get here. But he doesn't know your name. I'm not even sure I've really told him about you. I know I have mentioned you once or twice but you are mine. To me, your name, your face, our love, those are mine... I covet your memory on quiet rainy days and think about you. I miss you and a part of my heart, the only part that didn't break the day you died, the part that holds all the times before, all the whispered first love moments, still loves you with the power that could fly men to the moon. <3 I miss you. And I hope I'm making you proud..

Six years... how did so much time pass? 

I love you. Semper fi.

late night "i miss yous"

Some nights, I have a collection of "I miss yous" ... see, I miss my Dad because he was a gift to me from Heaven, he was on loan and I wish I could have more time. and I miss my brother, because some days I wish I could go out back and watch him fix the dirt bikes while we talked... I miss my grandpa, I miss being someone's favorite and having a family, no matter how dysfunctional. I miss a few people that have gone into the "forgotten-people pile" because there's just no place for us in each others' lives anymore. I miss my best friend, Marcus, because he was that first true friend who could make me laugh. I miss Tommie, because he was a lifelong friend and knowing he's in Heaven helps. I miss Kristen, she was such a fighter and I admired her for that, but in the end the cancer won. I miss Andrew, because he could always make you laugh and before we could reconnect he was gone. I miss Shane, because he was my first kiss and my first boyfriend and my best friend for such a long time, that when the cancer took him and I talked to his Dad, I felt my heart break, he was such a good person and I knew he would be someone wonderful. I miss Corey, because he had a way of making God real, even to the wild child with a rebellious streak. He died a few years ago in a car wreck that his brother walked away from. I still cry about that. I miss my friends in Europe because we had so much fun and as complicated as life was, it was great to have such amazing people around me who always had my back: Phillyup, Brandon, Brent, Waffles (Sacha), Lizard (Lizzie), Mexican (Ricker), Hobo (Mike)... We had different groups but whenever I was with any of them I felt happy and we laughed and usually had so much fun. I miss my friends in Jersey, before I left and time made us grow apart. I miss my friends spread out in the world, too far away to visit, but somehow still catch glimpses of each others lives, like waves. I miss old teachers like Mr. Lopez, Mr. Pinto, Marm... Mr. Lopez was awesome in Europe. He did his best to help me and I'd like to think he taught me valuable lessons. Pinto taught me about music, but he also shared funny stories like about watching Xmen in the dark and freaking himself out. But Marm, he's family. He shaped my life in a profound way and there should be people like that in the world.

You see, thinking about them, all of them... it doesn't ache nearly as much as missing you. I miss you alot right now. I miss your voice, I miss your face, I miss your heartbeat, I miss your kiss. I wish you were here tonight to hold me... I wish we were somewhere together. You are awesome and I miss you. I can't wait til this summer when I get to see you again. <3 ily

Always...

I've been missing you. You left just a few days ago and I felt like my world fell apart again. Soon I'll be moving to Louisiana and who knows what that will be like or what will become of us but right now, I miss you. I can't get you out of my head. I wish you were here. Always.

weeping angel

A broken girl cries out in the night,
A perfect weeping angel if she just had wings.
Betrayed by her reality, alone with her regrets,
She begs the stars for one more moment,
Just long enough to say good-byes,
Tell him that she loved him,
That he was the perfect man,
She never thought he’d go so soon.
A million and one broken dreams,
She’s not sure she’s strong enough.
Tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes,
Weary and worn from so deep a loss,
Her mind clings to long, lost memories,
A little princess and her King,
A montage of the life she used to have.
She curls her knees to her chest,
Hugging her broken heart, afraid to come undone
The night remains still, unforgiving and cold
A broken girl, alone and lonely, cries
A perfect weeping angel if she just had wings.


Miss you daddy.

memory

The mirror has always spoken true, my reflection has never lied,
what could create such a state, a fragile smile with broken eyes?
Tear drops dripping down my face, in the quiet restful sleep,
a simple dream about a boy that died and broke my heart plays within my mind.
He stole my smile for quite a while, I'm older now than he was then.
I've had a long, long time to think, he was always so much surer.
Then forever was that much weaker.
I close my eyes to recall-illusions from my psyche.
It thrilled my heart to embrace his smile, made my soul fly to hear his laugh,
which rang out strong and true.
It's been too long, a while, an unfair reality.
My skin is set ablaze by his hand on my cheek.
My face feels like a fire when he gave me one last kiss,
a sad look within his eye and a vague knowing nod, he turns from me.
Heartache painfully renewed, my eyes find my own and I stare into myself.
My heart and mind are racing, why now echoes within and out.
Close my eyes and fight him away.
A wasted life, lost youth and a never-was memory.
Once a year I dream about him.
It's good to hear his laugh, nice to see his smile,
but in the morning, I'll push him back, inside that dark and hidden tomb.
Rest in peace for another year, we'll meet again soon, my dearly departed friend.


Written in the memory of Marcus Shawn Ledford. 10 years after his suicide took him from my life but couldn't tear him from my heart.

June 24th, 2010

Today, I miss my Dad. I look at his flag and I wish it was him instead. Days like these, when I realize just how long it's been I get sad.





I remember before the war. I remember before the fighting started, before I started losing people I knew. I was 11 when 9-11 happened. My dad was in Special Ops. My life was forever changed...



I almost wish I didn't remember the peace. I have spent so long worried and waiting for news from far away. I have witnessed the injured coming home and buried the dead with a heavy heart. I have always known the sacrifice and the cost that had to be paid so we could be as safe as possible. And now, almost 9 years later, I'm still waiting for them to come home. Still waiting for the time when I can go to sleep and not send a little prayer to the heavens to watch out for all those that are there, all those that serve. I am still waiting for the peace of mind I haven't had since I was a little girl.



Nine long years. I still remember being Interviewed by the callous reporters at the front gates of base. Asking me how I felt, how the war affected me, what my views are. How they could ask a young girl of only 13 those questions, when her father was somewhere classified, gone for however long he was gone, always wondering when he'd be home. I hated the news then and I still do. It causes me such pain to watch the names and faces appear on my tv screen. The ones that will never come home, the ones I knew, the ones I didn't.

It doesn't help having the memories or experiences I have, nor does it help to know that so many friends I knew are gone and there are still more that serve, more joining daily. I write letters to them, I pray for them, I miss them. I hope tomorrow feels better but today I'm sad and missing the peace that I used to have. The kind of peace that existed before these wars. The kind of peace that, for me, only existed briefly. Two years between the abuse of one life and the wars of another. Two years where I was a child... Today, I miss that peace, the kind of comfort I had.

 

Today, most of all, I miss my dad. I look at his flag, place my hand upon the stiching of a star, trace the outline, line up his rack, even though it never moves, delicately touch his rank and the airforce seal. I stare at his name and think of his face, his smile, him in uniform, him in his Blues... All those memories bring tears to my eyes and I lean it, kiss the flag that was given to me to honour his service, and lay my cheek against the firmly folded fabric and a tear rolls from my eyes. I miss him so very much and long for his hug, when I laid my head on his chest and his big, strong arms would wrap around me. I miss his hugs and the flag just doesn't hug me back. My tears fall into it. I'm not crying for him, I know he's in Heaven. I'm crying for me. For the hole he left behind.

 

I miss the peace, the kind I had before the war. At Ruby Tuesdays, with my Dad and my Mom and everything was fine and safe.

Memorial Day, Saturday May 29, 2010

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of... being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived. - General George S. Patton

I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat. I will never quit. I will never leave a fallen comrade.  I am disciplined, physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills. I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.  I am an expert and I am a professional.

God Have Mercy on my enemies, because I won't ~ General George S. Patton

You showed me how I was supposed to Live then you showed me how to die ~ Toby Keith

It's hard missing my Daddy. A weekend full of condolences and kind words. Here's some of the sweetest.

If I'm even a sliver of the man your father was, I'll be a hell of a man.~ A Gunner in Iraq

I am keeping you in my thoughts, have your picture tucked in my pocket over my heart. I've got to go to work. Hooah!~ An Army Medic in Hemland Afghanistan

This weekend will never be about parties for you. It will always be sad, but just know that I have you in my prayers and that this weekend will always remind me of what you lost. Your Dad was a hero. ~A vet. Army Sgt in the states.

I am honoured to know you and wish you strength in carrying through a loss such as yours. You are in our thoughts here this weekend. A toast or ten will be made in your honor. ~A Vet Marine in the states.

and my personal favorite, the double edged sword.

I only met your dad a few times, he scared the hell out of me most of the time, but I always think about how much he loved you and how much he loved our Country... I know you miss him, he was your Daddy, how could you not? Just know I'm here, if you need to talk. I miss you, kiddo. ~ My childhood friend and current soldier in the Army deployed in Iraq.

I don't want to pretend this weekend is easy... But the outpouring of love, from so many that are in Warzones, so many that care... I'm touched and honoured by every word they say. My heart is broken but it's healing a little more every day, all because of those strong and Brave men, who fight for us everyday.

It's Memorial Day weekend. 7 months since my Dad's been gone, since he died in Service to the USAF. This weekend is meant to remember him... To remember what others like him have sacrificed for the security of all of us. whether we choose to accept it or not.


I keep crying. The truth is right now all I could use is a fucking hug. I could use my friend back, but I'm afraid to ask for his help, for anything, because I know his girlfriend would think I was trying something. but the truth is, he was there when I found out, and there's no one that could possibly know how badly it hurt me to lose him, how I instantly felt the most terrible pain of my life in that moment. And even though it's been months, maybe it's just the day...or rather what this weekend means. Memorial Day... To remember those that died during their service... But really, it just feels like the world is haunting me, like the pain is so deep within, sometimes, like right now, when I can't do anything but cry.

You think she's better than me?

She is so not better than me. She's just a disease. I thought you were worth loving and I was wrong. Any girl who falls for you should be warned. You are capable of destroying a girl's soul and heart with words of encouragement and actions of love followed by silence and neglect.

Never again

Never again will I allow my brain to be mislead by my heart. I made a mistake with you. You tried to destroy me and you nearly did. The worst part, I let you.

end to another maybe love

I feel like I am made of glass. And at any moment, all my pieces could shatter and break. It's always easier to blame other people isn't it? It would be easy to say that he did this to me, that he became such a part of my soul, that his departure from my life sent me spiraling out of control. And maybe to an extent that's true. There's no doubt that I gave my heart to a boy who ran so far away with it that I'm not sure it will ever really come back. But to put all that blame on him would be naive, and I would never want to flatter him in that way. The truth is, I was broken before he came barreling into my life. And now that he's gone, I'm just one step closer to shattering. My problem isn't making someone else fall in love with me, it's falling in love with myself. I've struggled for years to be happy with who I am, and I made the mistake of letting someone else try to make me happy, make me more alive. But how can I fault someone for falling out of love with me, when I have never even loved myself?

Dear Daddy,

Dear Daddy,

           It's been too long since you've been gone and yet, not very long at all. The sky is blue and righteous in all directions. The day is the perfect day outside. In my mind, I see you standing there, uniform and all, home from a deployment, but this is the longest of all. I know you won't come home this time, I mean you've been gone this long before, but never once was so unending. I really miss you so much, and I can't stop thinking about you. Remember singing "American Soldier?" You held Mom's hand and sang and I remember thinking about that song... "I counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice" Did you know? Did I know? I know now, much more than I knew before. The pressure you were always under, you're ability to carry on.          

          You are my Daddy, my own Hero. I'm so proud to be your daughter, so proud to have your flag. But sometimes I really miss you, like today and yesterday and all the days before. Lately, I don't care about much beyond getting back to a place where men like you are. I support my friends that serve, texting and calling and being their confessor when they need. You taught me more than I can ever fully thank you for. You taught me compassion and empathy, love and hope. You always believed in me and now, I'm taking that to heart, Daddy.

          I am trying really hard to move back. I fill out paperwork and make phone calls and worry that it will take too long. I just don't want to be here anymore. This place is getting old and quite honestly, I don't think anything beyond the beauty could hold me here. I am desperate to get out of this place, even more desperate to get back to where the values you taught me lie.

           I miss you Daddy. I love you always. Just another letter, in memory of you