Final Days at Home

It was a morning like any other, yet nothing about it felt ordinary. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the quiet neighborhood. Inside the small, familiar house, I could feel the weight of what was to come pressing down on me. Today was the day I was set to deploy. I knew the moment I woke up that this would be one of those days etched into my memory forever.

Shanel was already bustling around, trying to keep everything in order. Her face was a mixture of strength and quiet sadness—her eyes betraying the storm of emotions she was trying to hide. I could see it in her gaze, the worry, the love, the fear. She was doing her best to be brave for our daughters, Lily and Hailey, who were blissfully unaware of the magnitude of the day.

Lily, at three years old, was busy playing with her toys on the living room floor. She was giggling, her tiny hands clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a pink bunny she named Mr. Cuddles. Her innocence was a stark contrast to the heavy reality looming over us. Hailey, just a year and a half, was toddling around, her chubby cheeks flushed with curiosity and a hint of confusion. She kept reaching for her bottle, her little face scrunching with frustration when she couldn’t get it herself.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I knew I had to be strong—for them. For Shanel. But inside, my heart was pounding with a thousand conflicting emotions. The thought of leaving my family, especially today, felt unbearable. Yet, I kept telling myself, “I didn’t have a choice.”

That phrase echoed in my mind as I watched Shanel attempt to hide her tears while she packed a small bag of essentials for the girls and me. She was trying to be brave, but I saw through her facade. Her hands trembled slightly as she folded Lily’s tiny clothes, and her voice cracked when she told Lily she had to go on a little adventure. Lily just nodded, clutching Mr. Cuddles tighter, oblivious to the storm brewing behind her mother’s smile.

The time had come. We piled into the van—a familiar, worn vehicle that had carried us through so many memories. As I closed the door behind me, I felt a pang deep in my chest. The world outside seemed to pause, waiting for what was to come.

Driving to the deployment site was a blur. I kept my eyes on the road, but my mind was elsewhere. Every mile was a reminder of what I was leaving behind. I knew I’d miss their laughter, their tiny fingers grabbing at my face, their sweet, innocent voices calling my name.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot of Bravo Company, the reality hit me like a freight train. The lot was bustling with other families—mothers, fathers, children—all facing the same gut-wrenching goodbye. I could see the tears glistening in Shanel’s eyes as she parked the van. She looked at me, her expression a mixture of love and despair, and I felt a surge of helplessness.

“I don’t want to do this,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “I didn’t have a choice,” I told her softly, though the words felt hollow even as I said them.

The door swung open, and I stepped out into the cold morning air. Lily immediately ran to me, her little arms wrapping around my waist in a tight hug. Hailey followed, her tiny hands clutching her favorite blanket. Their bright eyes looked up at me, full of trust and unconditional love. I wanted to hold them forever, to freeze this moment in time.

Shanel approached, tears streaming down her face now. She tried to smile, tried to be strong for the girls, but her voice broke. “Be safe,” she managed to say, her voice choking with emotion.

“I will,” I promised, kneeling down to hug both girls tightly. Lily’s small body pressed against me, her giggles muffled in my shirt. Hailey clung to me just as fiercely, her tiny fingers digging into my skin as if to anchor herself.

The long, tearful goodbyes felt like an eternity. Shanel kept whispering words of love and encouragement, tears falling freely now. Lily looked up at me with her big, innocent eyes, clutching Mr. Cuddles close. Hailey reached out, grabbing my face with both tiny hands and giving me a slobbery kiss that I knew I would cherish forever.

“I’ll come back, I promise,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. But even as I said it, I knew the truth wasn’t that simple. Sometimes, in this line of work, promises had to be made with the understanding that circumstances could change in an instant.

The moment came when I had to stand up, turn away from the family I loved so fiercely, and walk toward the unit. My heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces. I looked back one last time, seeing Shanel kneeling on the ground, wiping her tears, trying to be brave for Lily and Hailey.

As I moved forward, I kept telling myself, “I didn’t have a choice.” It was a mantra, a shield against the overwhelming tide of emotion threatening to drown me. This was my duty, my sacrifice. I knew that. I had to.

The chaos of the deployment process was a blur of handshakes, briefings, and hurried goodbyes. The unit gathered around, preparing for what lay ahead. But in the back of my mind, all I could see was the image of my wife’s tear-streaked face and my daughters’ tiny hands reaching for me.

The moment finally arrived when I was told to board the transport. I climbed aboard, feeling the weight of separation settle around me like a shroud. As the vehicle pulled away from the base, I looked out the window, watching the family I was leaving behind diminish into the distance.

The road ahead was uncertain, dangerous even, but I clung to the hope that I would return to those faces—their smiles, their love. I kept repeating to myself, “I didn’t have a choice,” because sometimes, in life, you do what you must, even when it hurts.

The day I was set to deploy was a day I would never forget. It was a day of heartbreak, sacrifice, and unwavering love. As I sat there, miles away from my family, I carried them with me—every smile, every tear, every whispered promise. And I knew, deep down, that no matter where I was in the world, that love would keep me going.

Because I didn’t have a choice—but I would come back.