Missing You
I was in second grade, or at the very least, going into. My Dad had been in the military for over 20 years at this point. That was more than double my lifetime back then. My few and meager 7 years of living had been full of multiple moves, military ceremonies, and its own share of stresses, the worst to come when I was in second grade.
My Dad was to be deployed overseas for a year. When we said goodbye to him my mom was terribly broken up. I wanted to comfort her, but I did not know how. I was sad. I knew I was going to miss my Dad so much, and there was nothing I could do about it. Though, I didn’t understand what a year without my dad would really mean then. I didn’t understand there would be missed birthdays and holidays, missed soccer games, missed bad and good grades to share, missed goodnights and I love yous.
If I realized that then, I would have hugged my dad until my arms hurt. I would have said I love you a million times. But I didn’t. I was young. I just knew I was going to miss him so much. My mom understood, better than any of her children because she was older, and this wasn’t the first one for her.
, the first six months went by in a blur. However, December came by with the gift of good news: We’re going to see my dad for Christmas. We were flying to Germany from Florida and meeting him halfway. This would become the first of our family tradition to travel for Christmas. I wouldn’t be getting presents that year, but to me, seeing my dad would be the greatest one possible.
I still remember us standing in line after a long and tiring eight-hour flight and seeing my dad through the glass making silly faces at us. I felt overflowed with joy.
Our time in Germany had lasted for two weeks. Two weeks after six months. Six months of missing the little things. Things you never took too much notice of before but hurt you so much now that they weren’t there: the jokes my Dad made, his specialty pancakes for dinner, his laugh, my nickname by him, all of our family just being together.
The two weeks there were filled with visiting castles, bratwurst, skiing, cold weather, and joy. One of the two weeks there I spent at a ski camp and won a medal in a tournament at the end (it was a participation medal, but I adored it). The whole time I was there I thought I was so cool to be speaking English in a country with most of the people only speaking German. But I later learned that it was quite the opposite; over half of the people there knew English as a second language. I felt silly for talking extra loud in public now. Seven years later, the memories have blended together of those two weeks, but I know I was happy. Truly happy.
However, as all good things do, Christmas ends, two weeks ends. The goodbyes said then were so much harder because we had gotten used to the little things again, because we knew we only made it halfway.
The next six months had been wonderful and awful. At that time, I had my first birthday party in the gym of my future middle school, I didn’t know it at the time, though. My Dad called me on my birthday which happened to fall on Easter that year. It was a fun birthday, but I don’t think it could ever be the best without my Dad.
I think those last six months were hardest on my mom. She stayed a trooper the whole time, though. At that time, I was having trouble in school. I had a speech impediment, and a recent diagnosis of auditory processing difficulty, and my learning faltered as well. But my mom continued to believe in me, and as it turned out I was gifted. My next year in school would be my best yet, and my dad would be there to see it.
My Dad was due to come home on July 4th weekend. We had spent the weeks leading up preparing decorations and food. My mom joked that she would be annoyed if Dad came home early and didn’t tell us beforehand. So, of course, he did. We all rushed to get the house ready that day with the little time we had before we had to leave for JAX Airport. We were all stressed under the crunched time, but we really were overwhelmed with happiness. All of us, my mom, my older sister, Isabella, my older brothers, Noah and Josh, and me, all had missed him so much.
I still remember at the airport when we finally saw him. My mom ran towards him with her arms open, but one of the security guards made her stop and wait, you aren’t allowed to cross the line. The other security guard clearly wasn’t having it, really dude, this is a touching moment. We still joke about it till this day.
I held my Dad’s hand the whole walk to the car and didn’t leave his side until I had to go to sleep, we all didn’t.
My Dad ended up retiring not long after. We would have to move again otherwise. He gave up his career for his family, for us. Both my parents gave up so much that year and keep doing so. That year showed me just how close my family was and how much we love each other.