Just a random rambling post

In the quiet of the night, I feel the most at peace. 

Not a sound, not even a whisper of anyone else awake... 

Sometimes that's when I feel the most alive, in the dead of the night.

I just spent the whole night doing things that I wasn't able to get done yesterday (It's 330 on Tuesday Morning). But beyond doing what needed to be done, I took a bath in this milk bath stuff I got today (and it felt oh-so-good to sit in the tub with steaming hot water, candles burning and a good book in my hand). I also cleaned my pores for the 2nd time this week (I'm really trying to make my skin stay youthful longer now) and then braided my hair so it won't get into a mess after I finally close my eyes. I also managed to fill out all the paperwork needed for the Army...

Ah, the Army. What a pain in the ass it was today. (Let me say this before I begin my ... bitch fest::: I love the Army. I love the Military. I'm so proud to be an Army wife and to be the daughter of a true American Hero and I am so honored to be among the 2% of the population that deals with this life every day, all day but sometimes, it can get on your nerves.) Steve had to go for his SRP and do a few other in-processing things. First, we stopped by Tricare and registered (finally got the SSN thing worked out, for the longest time my care was still under my father's instead of my husband's and now it's finally fixed). Then we went to lunch before he went back for his finance briefing and while he did that I went to the commissary (grocery shopping time, which went very well). Well, he texts me and says it'll take a few hours, so I start to head off post, only to have him call me and ask me to turn around, that he'll be done in five or ten minutes. Well twenty minutes later, I call him and ask him what's up. He tells me he's doing his SRP and that I should go drop the groceries off (I was in the parking lot waiting for him), so I go home (and almost got killed by some dumbass driver who decided the road was a great place to stop and reverse when I was right behind him, I avoided being hit by less than 2 feet, not comforting.) So I drop off all the refrigerated and freezer stuff because he tells me "Hearing test then done." So I rush and then he calls me while I'm on my way back to post. "It'll take a little while longer." By this time it's already been 2 hours or so. So the kids and I head to the PX just to see what's for sale. I ended up getting two books and some gummy candies from Germany (Haribo rocks!!) and he texts me "Almost done" So I tell him ok, let me pay, I'll head over and pick you up. This is at 1600. I drive over and park and say I'm waiting and he texts me and says almost done again. So I wait. A half hour later, he is actually done and walks out of the building. His excuse was that they didn't tell him it'd take so long but I had already assumed it would. So I guess my aggravation today was mixed between the Army's in-processing and his constant "Almost done" thing.

Anyways, I finally make it home and unload the rest of the groceries, send him out for sushi and around 1945 the kids are in jammies and head to bed. So I washed the bath tub and soaked for a while before showering and when I got out. I felt so much better, less stressed. Then I chilled for a bit before I started cleaning randomly. The kitchen is spotless again. Papers that we needed filled out are filled out completely except the parts I don't know with post-its on each page so he knows what I need him to do before turning it in.

And at 330, I finally got ready for bed. I guess this post was kind of pointless but it's the middle of the night and I ramble then. Much love.

Act of Valor letter (FULL)

Big thanks go to Thumakia (one of my readers) for sending this to me!!! I'm so touched that you found the entire letter and sent it both to my blog and to my email. Thank you!!!

So here it is the full letter from Chief Dan to his best friend's unborn son:::

 Before my father died, he said the worst thing about growing old was that other men stop seeing you as dangerous...I've always remember that how being dangerous was sacred, a badge of honor. You live your life by a code. An ethos, every man does. It's your shoreline It's what guides you home and trust me you're always trying to get home. Your father was a reader, Churchill of course but also Faulkner and books about Tecumseh, he loved artists who painted people with bodies that looked like boxes, I'd give him hell about that he just say you gotta look harder, Look harder your father would say, I always knew he wasn't just talking about those boxy abstract paintings. There's threats everywhere in a world that's draped in camouflage. Your fathers grand father gave up his life flying a b24 in world war 2, he kept the liberator aloft just long enough for everyone to jump and then he went down with the plane. That's the blood coursing in your veins, Your father was my boss and I was his chief. What we knew about each others traits and our bond as operators. There's a brotherhood between us and we depended on each other more than a family. Tecumseh said although a single twig may break a bundle of twigs is strong.

Our platoon was headed downrange, we had Weimy our sniper he grew up in the middle of the Mojave desert, most excitement he had as a kid was bowling frozen turkeys down the isle at the grocery store. 

Ray our comms guy, our radio man. He grew up in east LA gangland. He had a silver star for pulling a wounded teammate out of a freight.

Sonny he was made of grannet, this guy didn't even do push ups because he was afraid his chest was gonna get too big.

Ajay joined the teams late in his 30's he had been a muay thai fighter all his life, before that he grew up dirt poor in Trinidad.

Mikey had 20 years in the teams, as humble as he was. You never even know him, he kept a picture of his wife in his helmet and a lock of her hair in his pocket, quiet as the breeze and finally senior chief miller, couldn't really tell you much about him other than I'd rather take a knife to a gun fight than have to be interrogated by him.

That last night at home you think about how you coulda been a better dad, a better husband, that bedtime story you shoulda read or that anniversary you forgot. You don't expect your family to understand what your doing, You just hope they accept it. When you get home you hope you can pickup right where you left off.

War is a country of will, theres no room for sympathy. If your not willing to give up everything...You've already lost.

Your father was a good man, growing up without him is going be hard its going to hurt. You'll feel alone, out to sea with no shore in sight you'll wonder why me, why him. Remember you have warriors blood in your veins, the code that made your father who he was is the same code that'll make you a man he would admire, respect. Put your pain in a box. Lock it down, like those people in the paintings your father liked we are men made up of boxes, chambers of loss, triumph, of hurt and hope and love. No one is stronger or more dangerous than a man who can harness his emotions, his past. Use it as fuel as ammunition as ink to write the most important letter of YOUR life. Before your father died he asked me to give you this poem by Tecumseh, I told him I'd fold it into a paper aeroplane and in a way...I guess that's what I'm doing, sailing it from him to you. 

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion;respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

Who am I?

I thought I'd fill all of you in on the biggest parts of my life, from who I am to how I got here... The good stuff mostly :) It's partly to help bring focus to myself on my own life. I've been down lately and am hoping to feel better soon.

So here goes. Who am I?

Well I'm Leah and I'm 24 years old. I am married to my amazing soldier, Steve, who is a Captain in the Army. I am the mother to two beautiful and wonderful children: my daughter, Lily, a five year old girlie-girl and my son, Jax, a three and a half year old boy who loves dinosaurs and cars. I have two gorgeous four-legged babies: my kitten (well more of a cat now) Luna and my dog (possibly a purebred Great Pyrenees) Beau.

I have made alot of mistakes in my life but my kids have never been one of them. I didn't choose the right man to have them with (if you can even call their biological father a man, sometimes I don't) but I love them more than anything and am so glad they are mine and in my custody.

Lily was born January of 2007, when I was 19. She was a hard pregnancy and a horrible labor but she came into the world with a full head of hair and gasolene eyes. Her hair and eyes have lightened up alot since she was born and now has dark chestnut brown eyes (like me) and dirty blonde/light brown hair. Her favorite things are dance class, her dolls, her dog and cat (she thinks our animals are hers), my husband (Daddy, in her eyes), her brother and me. Her favorite color is pink and she thinks she's a princess.

Jax was born June of 2008, when I was 20, almost 21. He was the simplest pregnancy ever, no morning sickness and a relatively easy labor. He was born with a full head of hair and dark gray eyes with green flecks. Like his sister, those changed. His eyes are now dark brown with flecks of green and his hair is the same as his sister's dirty blond/light brown. His favorite things are dinosaurs, cars, trains, dirt, Daddy, his sister and me.

My own father, who was my first hero, sadly died on October 27th, 2009 and left me broken-hearted and without a family. I loved my Daddy fiercely, as only a daughter can love a father. He was in the US Air Force, in the Special Ops. He spent his life fighting against evil men, teaching me the Military Values that would become so ingrained in me that no one measured up, except my husband. He was funny, kind, amazing. He spoiled me and loved me and took care of me. He did all the things a Dad is supposed to do and more. When he died, I lost so much more than just a Dad. I lost my white-knight, my Hero and my biggest supporter of all my dreams and hopes. In honor of his memory, I got a tattoo on my left calf (actually two) of his unit coin. On one side it says "305th Spec Ops" above a skeleton hand holding arrows and below it says "Darkness Brings Death". On the other side it says "Daddy" above a grim reaper standing in front of the tail of a C-141 and below it says "Sleep Tight". My Daddy's unit motto was "Darkness brings death, sleep tight."

My husband and I met in March of 2010. We were supposed to be pen-pals when he was originally going to deploy with a different unit. He didn't end up deploying but we ended up talking on a daily basis, exchanging texts and emails, building a relationship that we weren't even sure what the future held for it, if it even held anything. We became good friends.

Then in July of 2010, he and I met face-to-face and felt a strong connection. While we both agreed not to make promises until we were positive that we would be able to keep them, we swore that we would stay in touch and send letters while he deployed to Afghanistan. He still called me as much as he could, wrote me letters and I wrote him. Our connection grew as the time passed where we only got to know each other, finding that as each day passed, we thought of each other more and more.

 Finally in November of 2010, I swore that I would wait for him (although I hadn't dated anyone else while he was gone anyways). Also in November of 2010, I started Recruited ByLove, a facebook profile set up to be a support page and friend to other military girlfriends, wives and family members. (The way it's grown has blown my mind and I keep thinking of other ways to expand and make it something real and viable, something that will help not only the women on the page but others who have never even joined).

In January 2011, he came home for R&R and we spent all the time together we could, when we agreed that I would move to Fort Polk to wait for him and live in his house. From the time I lived in Louisiana til he came home, he and I dealt with everything together as much as we could with him being half a world away. I got things ready for his return and he helped me take care of things. We were serious about our future together. Talks of marriage and kids came up.

He came home from Afghanistan in August of 2011, and I was never happier about a man in my life. On post deployment leave, he brought me to Indiana to meet his family, the first time he's ever introduced someone to his family since he'd left home. They didn't like me for their own reasons (that mostly have to do with religious and cultural differences) but that doesn't really matter to me, the only thing that does is how my husband feels about me and he loves me.

After our post deployment vacation, we decided to get married as soon as we could. We started going to pre-marital counceling with his unit Chaplain (who also married us) and believe it or not, our Chaplain picked our wedding date (November 11, 2011).

He officially proposed to me on October 17th, 2011. The way he proposed was so wonderful. We had already picked out my ring (it's gorgeous) and had to have it shipped so I didn't get to wear it without an official proposal :). He took me to the training area of Fort Polk, where little "Afghan villages" are set up and the wild horses roam. I was petting a wild mare and softly talking to the mare when he approached me, got down on one knee and asked me "Leah Gose, will you be my wife?" Of course, I said yes. After all, that was my plan for so long :)

After a month of rushing around to finalize wedding plans and get it all set up, we were married in the Airborne Chapel on November 11th, 2011 (11-11-11) by our Chaplain with close friends and Steve's mother and one of his sisters present. It was a wonderful day and the day my life as the Captain's wife began.

Since we've gotten married, we adopted our cat, Lunatic, a beautiful black and white kitten, made improvements on our house (which we're selling to PCS soon), celebrated holidays, attended Army functions together, spent time as a family together. We have been through doctor appointments, dental appointments, family drama, and alot of other things. We also had our dog, Beau, show up out of the blue and make our family even more complete.

He spoils me rotten and makes my life perfect. Sure, it's not actually perfect. There's drama with petty army wives, frustrations from being in the Army life, bills to pay, things that have to get done, stress from PCSing, raising kids and every day stuff that tends to pile on faster than we can get it done. It's great though, because we are together for as long as we can.

And he encourages me. He encourages RBL and school and my artistic side. He loves that I create beautiful things, from my garden to poetry. He loves that I'm a good mother and that I care. He doesn't mind all my tattoos, or the fact that I want more. He doesn't mind that I dye my hair bright red because the idea of having natural hair bothers me. He doesn't mind that I am a bookworm who reads incessantly. He doesn't mind that I would rather wear cowboy boots and jeans than flip flops and shorts. He doesn't mind that I swear and have an attitude. He likes that I understand the military better than most girls he's ever been with. He likes that I can represent him at military functions and be his public face. He likes that I am a big-hearted softy when it comes to animals and people. He doesn't mind that sometimes I'm over-emotional. He loves me.

And I love him. I love how great he is with the kids. How he is such a hard worker, smart, funny, caring, wonderful, overall amazing. I love that he's getting his Master's degree soon. I love that he's strong enough to deal with things that I can't. I love that he has such a strong moral compass and doesn't deviate from his views, even if I disagree with them. I love that he has his own ways to have fun and I have mine. I love that we are close and that neither of us want to be with anyone else.

The fact is, my life is pretty great. I have these beautiful children who make my world a little bit more sparkle worthy. I have this great man that loves my kids like they are his own, that loves me with all his heart. A man who lets me keep animals as soon as I have my heart set on them. I love that he gave me everything I ever dreamed of and more. I have a beautiful cat who purrs almost every time I pick her up and cuddles with me when she has a chance. And now, I have this handsome dog, who isn't overly affectionate, but enough to know he loves me already.

I have friends that I love to talk to. My closest friends are Megan and Liz, who sadly live far away from me. Megan is in New Jersey and I introduced her to my friend, Eric, an enlisted soldier, who I met while being his pen-pal while he was in Iraq. They are so good together and every time I hear about how they are doing, a part of me feels so great. I was able to introduce a good couple to each other. Liz is in Florida and hasn't found anyone serious yet, but we go back a long time and know each other really well. Both of those girls are my sisters of the heart. I'm so lucky to have such great friends in them.

Our future holds a new post in less than two months, hopefully a baby, named Hunter or Willow, maybe a puppy in addition to Luna and Beau. Hopefully, I will have more friends, a more active social life and more things to be happy about in the future.

I am happy. I am in love. I am faithful, compassionate, loyal, loving. I have a big heart when it comes to kids and animals. I am untrusting when it comes to men and don't get along that well with women. I'm shy around new people and am one of those people where you either love me or hate me, there really isn't middle ground. I love music of all kinds. I love to watch TV on DVD or on Netflix rather than watch commercials. I love hockey and football, teams being the Jersey Devils and the Washington Redskins. I love to read and have already read almost 30 books this year alone (and it's only March 8th). I love to knit from time to time and I love to take pictures and edit them. I love to spend time with my family and I love to cuddle with my pets. I love when my husband takes me to dinner and I love when we all go out together. I love when everything is going good and nothing is going wrong.

And most of all, right now I just am happy to be alive, despite the stress... Sometimes I have to go over the past couple of years to see how great my life really is... I'm a lucky girl.

Love,
Leah

my hero in a frame

Daddy and me, Steve, Grandpa 

how lucky can one girl be?

There is a hero in all of us.

I really do, firmly, believe that there is a hero in all of us. It is up to us what we do with the potential we have inside. I find that life is amazing when you know for a fact you have saved someone's life. It is humbling and truly moving to remember just how it felt to know that it was because of you they got to see tomorrow too. I wish I had more chances to save people, but I know there are different types of heroes.

There is the mother, who is the hero in her child(ren)'s eyes She is resilient and firm, yet loving and kind. She remembers that she is their guide and their moral compass. It is up to her, more so than anyone else, who the child one day becomes.

There is the friend who listens when she gets a call at 2 in the morning as her best friend cries about a guy who broke her heart, the boy she grew up with who came home from war with ptsd and nightmares who needed someone to listen. She is the ear and comfort, the strength when they are weak She carries their burden as readily as her own, and yet, almost, never shares her true heart, the secrets she has never written, never spoken.. She is a hero and yet she is unsung.

Then there is the child who stands behind a parent that deploys. Quietly accepting his/her life serving the country without recognition, without choice, drafted by birth. The child who serves is more patriotic and heroic than any other. The child that serves accepts that his/her parent might not come home and they accept it because of honor, duty and love of Country. They understand that there is a sacrifice that must be made for the arrogance of failed diplomacy, because that's what war is...

That sacrifice sometimes must be paid in blood, but it isn't the blood of the diplomats or politicians, it is their blood, their parent... It is their burden, as well as the mother's and the father's. While only one might die, all might pay. The truest heroes are the Serving families that pay the price for our freedom. It isn't free. Why do so many forget? So why can't we also be heroes? At least, when we can...

Pay for someone's lunch, call that friend you haven't spoken to in a while because they were angry or sad and you just couldn't take it. Spend your life trying to do good. Try to be a hero in some way to someone... Believe it or not, it doesn't take the ultimate sacrifice. Not all of us are brave enough to be that way... And that's ok. We don't have to be. Just do something good. Pick a place and start. It's better than doing nothing... Just my thoughts...

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.

You are...

You are everything to me/ you are my only love.

I love you

we make a great team, don't you think?

Deployment sucks...

I can't sleep, but I've already written him a letter. So I can't do that. I've already posted to my albums. So I can't do that. I have done homework and taken notes. I've looked into different vacations (we talked about maybe going on one when he gets home, it's still up in the air). I've checked out my favorite comic strip, watched NCIS, NCIS: LA and Parenthood, now watching Charmed on dvd. Yet again. I already finished all my NCIS dvds for the second time this year. So what am I doing? rambling. Nonsensical things going about in my head. Random thoughts of kittens discovering the world, of being grateful for the silence after today (the kids were in a grumpy mood all day), thinking of the future, missing Steve and wondering what he's doing. Debating going to get ice cream with Belgian chocolate sprinkles. Thinking it'd be yummy but is it worth the effort, the leaving facebook for five minutes and missing him all together.

This is all part of deployment and I've come to realize that when it's the man you love, it's different than being the daughter, friend, sister of someone deployed. Your entire life revolves around receiving any word from the far away place they are. You worry more at night when you have gone 34 hours without word and are unsure of when the next message, call, letter will arrive. You spend every night unable to fall asleep, either because you'll miss the chance to talk for five, ten minutes with disconnections happening every sixty seconds. You pray with their dogtags in your hand, as if it was a rosary. You close your eyes and picture them next to you, their smile, their eyes, their laugh. You remember the moments that took your breath away, the moments that left you laughing, the moments that you listened to their heart beat as they slept. The way their lips felt on yours is a ghost that lingers. The distance becomes an ache but that ache is bitter-sweet. You ache, feel pain, worry, anxiety and you are willing to feel it because what it means is worth it. It means that when they come home, you'll have that moment, that first kiss, that feeling of falling all over again. The knowing that the man that you have waited for is returning to you.

Deployment means being emotional and crying at a song, a commercial, a glance at a photograph. There is no real comfort for the entire time, but when a letter arrives, life explodes with color and happiness, however brief, because it means that he misses you, that you were in his thoughts and it means everything in the world. When your phone rings with the unknown or foreign number, you answer it with excitement and are overly thrilled to hear their voice, even if a minute later you hear "crack-crack-stomp-stomp-boom-boom" and have to wait to be reconnected. A single phone call can make a whole day that much better and the lack of communication can make the best of days seem lacking. You scour youtube for new music, songs, tributes. When you discover one that says exactly what you feel, you are reduced to tears. When a television show has a theme that is deeper, you wish for their arms around you and cry. It's the hardest thing, to go months without a solid nights sleep and with this overwhelming feeling of loneliness. But you tell yourself, every day that you can do it. That no one said it was easy, but it's worth it. And it is.

It's worth it because of the messages, calls, letters. It's worth it because of that first kiss. It's worth it because of the anticipation of the future. It's worth it because you know that one person in the world, who is willing to give up his life for complete strangers, cares about you and would do anything for you. It's worth it because that one person still takes up your nights when you write letters, and get the opportunity to talk to them. It's worth it, no matter the risk, because love is worth it and isn't love always a risk? And true life-defining love is worth that risk.

And that's what gets me through everyday. Every sleepless night. I know he's worth it. So I pray. I pray for his safe return, I pray for him to still want me when he gets home (it's a deployment insecurity). I pray for the kind of love that Nancy had for Ronald and the love he bore for her. I pray for the simple things in life. I pray every morning and every night and countless times throughout the day. I pray for a call, a letter, a message. I pray for patience when I see couples together. I pray for self control when a girlfriend complains about her boyfriend, fiance or husband. I pray for sleep and dreams of him. I pray a million different prayers but the prayer I pray most often is for him to come home safe and to me.

Days and weeks go by and the countdown becomes less and less. Everyday that passes is one day closer to seeing him. And when that day comes, I will be the happiest girl in the world. It's always on my mind. And as I sit here, wrapped in his shirt, his dogtags hanging around my neck next to the cross he gave me for christmas/valentines day, I stare at his picture and miss him more.

My boyfriend, my soldier, my hero

I am very happy with my life, with most aspects. I have two amazingly beautiful kids, who make every single day an adventure. I am living in upstate New York (during my "deployment") and while my family is great, I'm already anxious to move away, closer to my Hero.

I have an amazing man in my life who is everything I've always wanted in a man. He's funny, brilliant (working on his Masters degree), strong, honorable, charming, kind, generous, caring, handsome, adorable, sweet and romantic. He makes every single day during this deployment easier by letting me know he misses me in little ways and sometimes, not so little ways. He sends me flowers (first, when I was moving from Canada and second, for my birthday), gets me little gifts (for my birthday, he sent me an amazing harddrive that I wanted; a teddy bear with his Engineering symbol on it; and most recently a care package from Afghanistan that had a few shirts, one that said Real Soldier on it, and his PT shirt which smells like him, another teddy bear, stoneware and something that fits my personality). He also supports and encourages every single thing I do. Whenever I have a problem, he wants to help me solve it and doesn't think that I'm over reacting, or if he does, he never says so, he simply says that he's there for me, that I'm strong and I can handle it. He is also so supportive over my plans to start online classes in January.

I am switching apartments in the next few days and I'm so glad to do it. There's way too much drama living in this place, since my mother's boyfriend is my landlord, so switching is the best way to ease that up in my life. I have applied for scholarships and grants for school and am pretty sure that I'm starting in January. It's the perfect plan. I'm so excited and to have someone who cares about me so much, supporting my every move. I am head over heals for Steve, my Captain. He's my number one fan and I'm his. We're perfect for each other and I'll never get over him. <3 He's my everything.

Lily and Jax are getting big. Jax is so tall and really not fat as much as he is just bigger. Whenever we go out, people ask if they are twins and can hardly believe that Jax is the youngest of them. It's really sweet and cute actually. I am absolutely crazy about my Babies and will never give them up for the world. They are my angels. <3

So r&r is less than a month and a half away... I'm so excited to see him again. We have plans to do some things together outside but I have a feeling most of our days will be spent curled up next to each other, hearing his heart beat, smelling him, feeling his arms wrapped around me. Getting new pictures... saying three little words that both of us don't want to say over the phone or online.

We have a skype date later <3

He's my absolute Hero <3

Even in you

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

This couldn't be real

my father is dead. TSgt Charles Timothy Gose died October 27th, 2009 and he's gone forever :'( My heart is shattered.... Who cares about anything else. His funeral is set for my birthday. Who cares? I lost my Hero.

I love you Daddy... <3