Home for Christmas

“My leave’s been approved.” He’d be home for Christmas.

Such a sweet string of words for any milspouse to hear, and the beginning of yet another military countdown.

The days that followed consisted of lists, prioritizing, planning, and goal setting; everything was entered into my calendar. What could go wrong, right? Well, as any seasoned milspouse knows… lots!

Never mind the consecutive ER visits, lost car keys, or preparing for multiple people to fly in the same month, just days apart from each other. It was that mountain of laundry on my daughter’s bed that was deliberately mocking my efforts to get it together.

But, this is what we do, us milspouses. We do crazy. We do hard. We do it because we love our service member. It isn’t always pretty, it doesn’t always go as planned, and it most certainly works out somehow anyway.

In this case, it happened because my eldest daughter had an idea far more creative than mine, my dear friend went to my home to dress and drive my little ones over to the place they’d finally get to see their Papa, and because our YMCA allowed us to set up shop in one of their rooms. It took an army to get it done.

Not only was our service member home in time for Christmas, but he arrived the day before our baby girl’s 4th birthday.

The Scene

Our two youngest were in a child care room playing when the rest of us showed up to “watch them play.” I had my phone on Facebook Live, their Godmother had her camera ready, and my teen was ready to record his entrance.

Once we had our places, I texted my husband to come on in. At the doorway he “Ho Ho Ho’d” and quickly grabbed their attention. They didn’t move, they just stared. Santa then entered the room still very much in character and calling each by name. He had their curiosity piqued at this point.

My son said, “I have a strange feeling about this.” He was hesitant to approach this Santa and my 3 year old felt much the same. Then, with a big smile on her face she said, “I think this is Papa.” It was then that Santa pulled down his beard and…

They were shocked, I was in tears, and then the laughter came. Slowly they began to unveil their father and it was beautiful.

First, his hat, with some help.

And then came the questions, their thoughts, and feelings about it all.

But then the most wonderful part: They grabbed the projects they had been working on and they brought them over to show him because he was here in person and not on the phone. Our son started playing with him with the kite he had just made and that moment right there put that mountain of laundry in its place.

For the only thing that truly mattered was Papa was home. Some mountains can be moved.

From our family to yours, Happy Holidays!