Day 28 – what’s
in your handbag/purse
My purse! It’s full of junk, so be prepared.
Chapstick, my favorite brand!
Well, now that you’ve seen the inside of my purse, your life
can go on.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Junk
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Writing on the Wall
Things found on the walls of the bathroom at school:
God loves you, gorgeous!
Hey beautiful, it gets better... and you get stronger. Head up :)
Life is hard, but you can do it!
It gets better.
Love yourself.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Far Away
Listen to this while you read! :)
Eleven
months. It’s been Eleven months since I’ve seen you. Eleven long, torturous
months. Eleven months since I boarded that plane. It’s been eleven months too
long. And, love, I miss you. But there’s only a couple more months until I can
come home and see you and Aubree, and that’s what keeps me going.
I can’t wait
to see her, to meet her, to hold her in my arms. Does she have my curls and
your eyes? Or your smile and my dimples? The pictures you send just aren’t
enough. How could they ever be enough, when I know there’s a little girl across
the sea, waiting to call me Daddy?
I carry the
picture you sent me in my boot. You and her. It’s my good luck charm. My two
girls. The woman who owns my heart and the little girl who already has me
wrapped around my finger.
Every night,
I lay awake and stare at it. Shadows dance across the walls and scenes play out
in my head, things I’ve missed. I was deployed only a month before Aubree was
born, and I kick myself every day for missing the birth of my child.
I can only
imagine how that would have gone. I can imagine you waking me up at three in
the morning, whispering that your water broke. As we both know, I would have
freaked out. You would have been the calm one, grabbing the overnight bag and
the keys.
Her
first smile, her first steps, so many things I’ve missed out on. I’m sorry,
love, but I’m coming home. I’m coming back to the place I belong. Only a few
more months, and we’ll be together again. In just a few months, we’ll be a
family.
I
love you. Forever yours, Ryan
The letter ends, and I smile. “I miss you,” I whisper.
It’s been so long since he’d left. I just want to be together again. I want to
see his face, hold his hand, hear his laugh.
I grab Aubree from her crib and head
downstairs to feed her lunch. Opening the cabinet, I pull out her favorite
snack and set it on the counter, but the sound of the doorbell fills my ear.
I shift her to my other hip as I
head for the entry way. “Just a second, baby girl,” I tell her as I open the
wooden door.
I freeze when I see the camouflage that the man wears.
His hair is cut short, his combat boots laced all the way up, and dog tags hang
from his neck. In his hand is a thin envelope, and his last name is stitched onto
his shirt. Johnston. His eyes are apologetic, and that’s what hits me the
hardest. His eyes. Deep blue with flecks of silver, and filled with sorrow.
“Mrs. Grace?”
I can’t answer. I know what’s coming. He’s gone.
“Ma’am?”
“Y-yes. That’s me,” I force myself to choke out.
“You’re husband was killed last week. It was a
roadside bomb. Almost every man in the vehicle was killed.”
“What?”
“He’s dead, ma’am.”
The four letter, one syllable word hits me hard,
knocking all the air out of my lungs. I lean forward, and place my free hand on
my knee, the other still supporting Aubree. I can barley breathe. When I was
finally able to draw in a breath, it sounded like a wounded animal. It was a
gut- wrenching, broken cry, so desperate and mournful.
I slowly stand upright, hand over my mouth, stifling
my sobs, and look at him. “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am,” He hands me the letter
and turns to leave but then turns back around. “He was a very honorable man. I
knew him personally, and that’s something I’m proud to say.”
“T-thank you,” I whisper and shut
the heavy wooden door. I collapse on the couch, sobbing. “No, no, no, no, no,”
I wail, repeating it over and over.
Aubree soon joins in, whimpering
softy. Whether if it’s from hunger or from hearing me cry, or if she can sense
something is wrong, I don’t know. “Shhh,” I whisper. I hold her head close to
my shoulder and rock back and forth. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry,” I tell her,
even though my weeping is louder than hers.
My gaze catches in the mirror above
the fireplace, and I’m startled. I don’t cry often, but now my eyes are red and
puffy. They’re full of fear, anger and despair. But the thing that strikes me
the most is the full-blown terror.
“Ryan….” It’s the only word I can
manage, when really, I want to say how much this hurt, tell him that I can’t do
this, that it was too much. But I can’t. He isn’t here. He can’t hear me. He’ll
never be here again. He’ll never meet the daughter who looks just like him.
He’ll never get to teach her how to ride a bike, or how to drive a car. He’ll never
get to sing her to sleep or kiss me goodnight.
What’d I’d do for one more chance,
just one more day with him.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
My Father is the King of Kings
Charm is deceptive, beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised." - Proverbs, 31:30
Bad Habits
|
Day 27 – my worst habit
|
Hmm. I have a lot of bad habits, but it's hard to think of any right now.
If I get on the computer to do one thing, I'm on for hours, without even realizing it.
I'm constantly reading multiple books at once.
I always stay up really late, even though I know I have to get up early the next morning.
I'm amazing at wasting time.
According to one of my friends, I try to make everyone happy, and I blame myself too much. Hmm. How's that for bad habits?
That's all I can think of for now, so talk to you all later! :)
Typical Day
Day 25 – your
day, in great detail. Hello lovelies! My
day’s pretty boring, but oh well.
6:45 My alarm
goes off. I hit snooze.
7:00 I actually
get up
7:20 Eat
breakfast, pack lunch
7:35 Out the
door, headed to school.
7:50 At school,
hang out with friends and finish homework until the bell rings
8:08 Warning bell
rings, head to first period
8:13 Last bell rings, first period starts- Peace and Justice
(my religion class)
9:02 Peace and Justice ends, head to homeroom
9:16 Homeroom ends, time for Chemistry… ugh
9:16- 10:10 Suffer through the worst class in the world
10:13 On to Creative Writing… best class ever. Filled with
funny people and fun stuff!
11:02 Bell rings and I go to my locker
11:05 on to Applied Rhetoric, aka English
12:08 Lunch! (:
12:38 lunch ends :( on to math, another terrible subject
12:41- 1:27 suffering, suffering, suffering
1:30 History class, which is pretty fun
1:45 usually by now my history teacher has made jokes that
are so stupid they’re funny, tell us a story that has no relevance to what we’re
learning, insult half the class, and still managed to have taught most of the lesson.
2:16 And now for Spanish, last class of the day
3:05 Final bell rings, I’m finally free!!
3:30 and I’m home. Change out of my uniform, get a snack
4:00 pull out my laptop, usually write some
6:00 Dinner!
7:00 Homework. Yuck. Typically study Chemistry, and usually
have some Spanish and History homework as well
8:15 take a break, eat a snack, then back to studying
9:00 usually done by now. I’ll read some, or get on the
computer and do absolutely nothing productive on the computer
10:30 bed time! Good night (:
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Disillusions
“It’s a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.”
— J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)
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