You see, a few days ago your dad left Germany and returned to the United States. It's not what he wanted, it's not what he asked for. He came because he is a man who honors his word and the command of those above him, at a huge personal cost to himself.
Our government has decided that there are too many military personal stationed in Europe and many are being re-stationed in the US. Your dad's brigade is being disbanded and the men and women redistributed, like slow stock in a store. We spoke briefly about how this felt, because he had to be conflicted. On one hand he was leaving you behind, and it was only recently that he was able to spend any real, quality time with you. The timing is unfair and unjust. On the other hand, he would be back in the States, closer to family and friends. I asked him if this was bittersweet. His reply was that it was much more bitter than sweet.
It was only three short weeks ago that I sat on the floor in your mother's apartment in Amberg and watched you and your dad together. You called him dada and wrapped your sweet, skinny arms around his neck. You kissed him. He kissed you back and wiped your runny nose. You had a nasty cold that day. He picked you up and held you upside down as you squealed in delight. You and he ran in circles in the living room, both in your stocking feet. You had a little black and white polka dot dress on with a red shirt and red tights. You were energetic and happy.
So, your dad is back in the states, first spending a few days with one of his brothers, your Uncle Danny, then here, then Texas. I think it's some cushion time between there, and here. Time to sort of re-integrate back into the American lifestyle and pace, and time to grieve without the watchful eyes of those who love him.
He loves you. He misses you.
