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A Soldier's Daughter

By , Cottonwood, CA
I sit at my computer and look at the picture of my dad, all dressed up in uniform. He hasn't called in a few days and each minute makes me wonder whether or not he'll come home. I stress about it constantly. My mind races a hundred miles an hour waiting for that phone to ring. When it does, it feels as if I can breathe again.

He can't tell me what he does and I suppose it's better that way. He saves me from the pain he feels and things he sees that he can never take back. He fills up our phone calls with the beauty of the country he's in right now. The snow on the ground or the blue waters of Afghanistan. He's been there for nearly a year. A year without his comforting hugs. That's a long time to go without.
When I feel lonely and I look at his picture waiting for those phone calls that happen maybe twice a week, I think back to the days on the beach or swimming in our pool. Family gatherings or riding bareback with him on Dusty next to me. I think back to even the little moments, like waking up to the smell of the best french toast I've ever had or watching movies in the winter next to the fire. These are the thoughts that I treasure and make me think of the days we have left until I see him again. When he finally comes home after serving for our country. These are the moments that matter most to me and my dad.

When he gets off that plane in his Army uniform, I will not only say I love you, I missed you, and Welcome Home, I'll tell him thank you for your service. I'll tell him that he's my hero. He risked his life for his country and everyday I'm proud to call him dad. I realize now that even though I'm stressing about him being gone, he is there for us. All of us. He is a soldier of the United States Army and I am thankful to call him my dad.





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