I'm linking up with FTLOB today and every Monday through February for Love Letters. I shared a love letter (I started early) last Monday sharing a letter my hubby sent me just before he returned from Iraq. You can read that here.
The following love letter is from my hubby in 2004 when he was at Camp Warhorse in Iraq. He had been away from home a year by this point (he didn't come home until April 2004). As mentioned in my previous love letter, at this point in the war communication was mainly via written correspondence. I treasure these letters, notes, and messages.
I want to start this one out by reminding you that I love you very much. Tonight, the 12th of January seems to be a unique evening for me for a couple reasons. The emotions overwhelmed me so much that the only thing I could do was put it in writing.
First off, I'm all by myself tonight. All of my roommates are working. So the only noise to be heard tonight is sounds that I produce. But here comes the parts that are special. I was sitting here on my chair reading Lance Armstrong's autobiography when I thought to myself it must be really rotten for my roommates to have to work outside tonight because it's raining. I didn't think anything of it as first, but as time went on, I found my mind constantly diverted to the tap, tap, tap sound of the droplets hitting the metal roof. So finally, without disgust, I slowly closed the book and closed my eyes. I pictured us back in the apartment with our thunderstorm CD. You made certain everything was perfect.
I quickly remembered that your mom sent me a candle in a small little patriotic candle holder. So I got out my matches (every good soldier has some) and lit a single little lite. So with the rest of the country in darkness, I write to you by candlelight with the sounds of raindrops bouncing off the roof.
When I sit back, let out a sigh, the lone shine dances in the darkness, not much different than the thoughts of you in my mind. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps the candle burning. While I'm here, I'm protective of that flame. It will NOT go out. So as I lay my head down tonight...the flame...the rain...I love you honey. you're the one piece I'm missing. Soon the puzzle will be back together.
I love you,
- I am a SAHM of 6 little dudes. My hubby's jobs require him to be away from home way more than I would like leaving me to fly solo more often than not. Since Dr. Phil won't return my calls, and Oprah has unfriended me, my therapy has now gone public! Here is where I go to receive cheap advice, reassurance and hopefully share some laughs. Honeslty, I'd love to make you laugh until you pee! So come, grab a cup of coffee (or vodka) and join in the conversation!