Where's My Daddy?

Deployment is hard enough.

But sometimes the words that come out of your precious child's mouth are just too much.

Yesterday morning I was trying to get Asher fed and dressed and out the door in time to make it to meet our running group on the bike path at 8 AM. Asher was playing and I was trying to get him wrangled into one spot long enough to get his entire outfit on him. At one point he headed upstairs, and I could hear him.

"Daddy? Daaaaady? Where's my Daddy?"

Talk about knife to the heart. He NEVER calls out for his Daddy like that when he's not here.

And he wasn't just playing. He was actively looking for his Daddy. He was saying, "I am sleepy. Where's my Daddy?" Unfortunately, I think he wanted to stay at home & NOT go for a jog that morning...and I kind of felt the same, too!

When I got upstairs, I found Asher crawling into our bed. He snuggled under the covers on Jake's side of the bed and laid his little head down on Jake's pillow, then pretended to snore.

I couldn't have wished his Daddy home at that moment more than I already have if I had tried!

On our run that morning, we neared the armory close to our house. It must have been a PT morning, as there were many soldiers out on the park lawn that morning. I pointed all of them out to Asher...the sun was in his eyes a bit too much for his liking, but he noticed all of the men and women in uniform there.

Today as we were driving past that same armory, the soldiers were standing along the sidewalks holding posters saying "Car Wash" and "Bake Sale," so, in need of an inside AND outside car wash, I figured I'd at least knock one out and make a donation to a good cause.

As we pulled in, Asher could see all the uniforms again and he let the female soldier at the window know, "My Daddy is in Afghanistan!" As we pulled forward and they turned on the hoses against our windows, Asher squeeled with delight. The soldiers scrubbed our windows and he and Sadie enjoyed the show from the backseat. There were soldiers in uniform surrounding our car.

"Where is my Daddy?" Asher asked again for the second time this weekend.

"Daddy's in Afghanistan, baby...these are different soldiers." *SIGH*

I can't say that seeing those uniforms doesn't make me ridiculously hopeful. Even if it's completely illogical, a uniform never ceases to make me believe that maybe, just maybe, MY soldier is there....waiting to come around the corner, or turn around from a group and have it be HIM, or scrub some suds on our window. Stupid, I know. But the mind can play such weird tricks...

Later, when we met up with my family, he let them know, "The shol-jers washed our car!"

Soon enough it'll be your Daddy, Asher...Soon, baby.

~Emily