The warm august morning contrasted greatly with the gray cloud of gloom that hung over or house. School was just around the corner. Unlike my fellow peers who were all buzzing with excitement and optimism for our fifth grade year to come, I was in dread. I knew this day was coming soon, my stomach did flips whenever I thought about it .I had been dreading this morning all of summer. I herd my parents’ murmur about it at night. They had done their best to prepare me for what was ahead but I refused to accept the reality of the situation until it had slapped me in the face that morning. Anger flushed my cheeks as I thought to myself, why couldn’t he have just chosen a different carrier?
That afternoon my dad was to leave for another deployment overseas. I have been through this same morning twice before. Growing up as a military kid I was used to my dad leaving, but this time was different.

This morning was incomparable to the other “goodbyes” and “see yeah laters” we have had in the past. I was older now. I understood what it really meant for my dad to go to war. My dad and I sat side by side on the couch casually making pleasant chit chat for the last time to avoid the inevitable goodbye to come.


My dad and I have always had a close relationship. I thought about the time he had taught me to ride a bike. I had been scared and timid but he was there with encouraging words and a push in the right direction. As the bike tires wobbled he was right there to catch me before I hit the ground. When I gained more confidence with speed he let me go off on my own but was there to comfort me with laughter when I had fallen and scraped my knee. My heart sank lower into my stomach. When I fall now there will be no one to catch me, no one there to comfort me in my time of need. I began wondering if I could even be strong enough to make it through the year without my dad while he was deployed or god forbid, the rest of my li …NO. A shiver ran down my spine as I mentally tried to suppress that horrible thought .Visions of dramatic war scenes flashed through my head.


“Sweetie”, my father’s strong voice rang out from a distance as it pulled me back into reality from the scary thoughts running around inside my head.


“Huh” I said dazed still. My mind was still spinning but the thoughts were fading as my brain was trying frantically to compute this information and calm my nerves before I went into a full fledge panic attack.


“Sweetie I know I’m asking a lot from my little girl “he paused to rough up the hair at the top of my head affectionately and then put his arm around me. I looked up at my dad was smiling slightly with concern. “I need you to hold down the house for me while I’m gone, okay kiddo? I love you” He moved his arm and began getting up off the couch. At which point my stomach decided to become a professional gymnast .I shuddered as I tried to take in a deep breath. I couldn’t respond. My chin was trembling as my chest felt suddenly hallow. Blinking rapidly to see past the rim of warm salty water threatening to overspill, I looked up at my dad for some finial reinsurance but it was too late. He was gone.


The time my family had to spend away from my father was never easy, but this was a particularly hard year. With my father gone my sister became depressed and started rebelling in anyway she could. A strange smell began lingered on my sister and I could sometimes smell it near her door in the hall way. I later found out after hearing my mom scream about it countless times the strange smell was the smell of marijuana .On some nights I would wake up to my moms voice “honey I have to pick up your sister from the police station will you lock the door and listen for your brothers “every time she said this same line her voice was always the same squeaky high pitch tone that I knew meant she was trying to hold back tears. My mom and sister began arguing constant, their screams rang in my ears day in and day out.


This put added stress on my mom who was already occupied with a fulltime job and my two infant brother’s .Her stress over boiled on everyone in the house. She began to weaken before my vary eyes .I could sometimes hear the sound of her muffled crying coming from the bathroom. It was up to me .As a ten year old quite and careful girl ,I was my dads “ little man of the house “ while he was gone . I had more responsibility than some adults do in there Twenties .I grew accustomed to the certain sounds my brothers would make when they needed something. I cooked, cleaned, took care of my brothers and did everything I could to keep our family together. My mother began talking to me like she would with an adult. When I looked in my sisters eyes I no longer saw myself as the “little sister “. My brothers would call my name when they whenever they needed anything. For the first time in my life I wasn’t just a kid anymore. People depended on me. I had been pushed into an adult world suddenly and my family needed me.