A Peace-Filled Family

As my two kids and I stood in the airport terminal, waiting for my husband to walk out of security, I had a wave of emotions that flushed over me. I felt joy that we were finally here! I made it seven months with my husband deployed in the Middle East while caring for a baby and a 4-year-old at home. I felt eager for him to get here and for all we’d have to catch up on. I was anxious to finally share all the emotions (good and bad) that we had held in for almost a year.

Throughout the last seven months, my husband and I had barely spoken. When we talked, my 4-year-old would steal the phone and play with it because she wanted so desperately to connect with her daddy and be with him. Then my baby would try to grab the phone, which I was okay with because I wanted her to remember who he was and not be scared when he came home. After all, the last time she saw her daddy was when she was 5 months old.

My husband couldn’t share with me much of his struggles and emotions because he knew all that I was dealing with. I couldn’t share with him the whirlwind of life with two kids and all that had gone on while he was gone. I didn’t want to add any more weight to his shoulders. With him coming home, we were going to have to communicate again. We would delve into all that we withheld from each other emotionally.

So here we were, excited and anxiously waiting. My girls were dressed up in red, white and blue outfits. I was in a brand-new yellow flower print spaghetti strap dress (that I hoped would knock my husband off of his feet).

We held our signs tightly as we waited for him. Signs that we spent weeks working on. My 4-year-old daughter had a sign splattered with paint that said, “Forget Superman, my dad is my hero.” My sign said, “You’re home! Your next mission: kiss me.”

As the time of the airplane landing neared, it was hard for me to focus on much of anything surrounding me except the security exit. Other members of my husband’s unit kept trying to talk to us. Other spouses were waiting anxiously as well, making small talk. I couldn’t focus on the words coming out of their mouths. I could only focus on that exit.

As his commander announced that the plane landed and everyone was unloading, I felt my breath catch in my chest. My husband was here. He was in the same country as me, the same state, the same city! I tried to hold it together for my girls. Kids pick up on everything after all. When you’ve pushed down emotions for over half a year, it’s difficult to keep them in any longer.

Then I saw him. He came out of the terminal exit in his “MultiCams” (the camouflage pattern used during deployment) with a giant, beautiful smile on his face. The smile I fell in love with so many years ago. I could tell he was trying to hold his composure while also walking as fast as he could to get to us. As he came up to us, he bent down to our oldest daughter and scooped her up in a giant, daddy bear hug. She started to cry tears of joy as she clung tightly to his neck. Next, it was my turn, and our baby daughter’s, who I was holding. As he held our 4-year-old in his arms, he gave me the kiss we had been waiting seven long months for. Then he sweetly and gently talked to our baby daughter. As a daddy, he knew that he had to tread lightly with her because she likely didn’t remember him. She shyly looked at him and cooed. Then she clung back onto me. She remembered him but still had to get used to him being near again.

After gathering his things, we walked out of the airport together as a family, complete again. My husband rode in the back seat with the kids, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again.

Ashley is a proud Air Force wife and mother of two adorable little girls and a little boy. Her spouse has served in the military for 22 years. Ashley is also an author of children’s books and a reporter for her local newspaper.