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Your e-mails: Coming home, families and war
SPECIAL REPORT
YOUR E-MAIL ALERTS(CNN) -- With U.S. troops fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, CNN.com wants to hear your stories. Whether deployed in the military or waiting on a loved one at home, these CNN.com readers sent us their stories and thoughts. And some sent photos. Here's a sampling of the responses, some of which have been edited. Welcome homeI have three sons in the military. My oldest is a chief in the Navy stationed in Colorado. My second just returned in March from Iraq. He spent a year there. He left before his son's second birthday and returned on his third. He has four children and wife Sarah. We were at the Caledonia High School when they returned, and as they marched into the auditorium we all cried. Having to sit there and stare at him as they went through the ceremony was torture, but a sweet one. I cried as the man behind us told us his son had just died in Iraq and he was there to honor our sons. So bittersweet. To hold my son again was heaven on Earth, and we all laughed and cried at the same time. I also have a third son stationed on the USS Roosevelt that returned home from the Middle East several weeks later. I also attended his return and watched the ship pull into port and all the families on the shore waiting impatiently for them to disembark. As you watched the sailors lining the deck of the ship, all you saw was cell phones up to ears, and looking around all you could see were anxious families yelling "Where are you exactly?" and then tears as eyes met. I have never been so moved in my life. I am so proud to have three sons to offer for this cause and am more proud of them then anything I know. Their lives have a higher meaning and I thank God they were blessed to come home safely to us. And bless their families who waited patiently as they served someone and something other then themselves. I count myself lucky and blessed to be a military mother. My dad had been gone for 12 months, and with my brother still stationed in Iraq, I was pretty anxious for part of my family to be reunited. My mom and I wore big yellow bows so that Dad could spot us as soon as he marched in. I searched and searched for his face, and being 30 pounds lighter, he looked much different coming home than when he left! The Irish smile is unmistakable and the feeling of relief was overwhelming. We met people in his platoon and other men and women who also had been stationed with them. I felt like we stole him away, we left so fast, but we left knowing there were more steps in the processes and it wasn't over. Our son, Marine Lance Cpl. Bryan Jolliffe, returned on January 29, 2006, from his first deployment in Iraq. As an adopted child from Korea, Bryan has chosen to defend and serve his adopted country. Every year, our family celebrates the anniversary of our children's (we have 2 adopted Korean children) "gotcha day." Due to Bryan's deployment last year, the anniversary was celebrated without him. The year before that, he left for boot camp on the anniversary day. Like many military families, celebrating special occasions and holidays without your soldier is very difficult, but you get through it. As his dad and I stood on the base parade field in Twentynine Palms, California on January 29, 2006, anxiously awaiting the arrival of buses holding our precious troops, once again we felt the same rush of excitement, nervousness and overwhelming pride at his coming home. Whether it be the plane or the bus that delivered our child safely into our arms, we now will celebrate the arrival of our baby and the return from war of the man who proudly serves in the USMC. The first time my husband, an Air Force captain, deployed, our son was 14 days old. The second time, he was old enough to understand that Daddy was leaving, and he clung to his daddy's leg as he went through the deployment line to board the bus on the flight line. In my arms I held our infant daughter. The pain was unbearable. His homecoming was a wonderful, wonderful day, knowing full well that it was never guaranteed. Six days before my husband left Iraq, his convoy was ambushed and their armored vehicle was incapacitated. It's hard to understand when these things happen why some people die and some live, but we were blessed to have him return home to us. I cry whenever I see a homecoming, whenever I see a casket. It's too real, too close, too overwhelming. Even now, two years after my husband was in Iraq, facets of that experience taint our lives. I wonder if it will ever go away. Just a very simple story of homecoming for my youngest son, Richard. He returned from Iraq last October 2005. As he hopped across the U.S. headed to Mountain Home Air Force Base in Idaho, he landed several times to change aircraft. He told me he felt great knowing he was on U.S. soil again, but nothing felt better than the reception he and his fellow Air Force members received when they touched down in Salt Lake City, on the last leg of their trip. He said complete strangers started to cry, shake their hands and clap as they walked through the terminal headed to their next aircraft. He said the sense of pride he felt at that moment will stay in his heart forever. I just think that was wonderful, and I hope other military members across the country could feel what he felt. I am proud of all who serve, especially my own children in the military. I am 22 years old and have been married to my United States infantry soldier going on two years. He joined the Army shortly after we began dating and just months after his graduation from basic training at Fort Benning he was stationed in Hawaii and within months he was deployed to Iraq. ... In August of 2004 he was released home for his two weeks R&R and we were wed ... quick and nothing like the wedding of my dreams...but it would have to do. In September he left to return back to his unit in Iraq. On February 14, 2005, Valentine's night, my husband landed on the island of Oahu and was bused to the hangar where the welcome home ceremony was being held. Welcome home and Valentine balloons were everywhere, kids dressed in red, white and blue were chasing each other around and women wearing yellow ribbons and huge grins filled the hangar. ... The moment they rolled open the hangar doors and the soldiers marched in will forever be ingrained in my mind and heart. ... I have never stood at attention so proudly while the national anthem and the pledge were being said. The moment they released the soldiers was the best moment of my life. I have the whole ceremony and our first kiss on video and I still get teary-eyed watching it to this day. We are currently getting ready for his second tour to Iraq and I have faith in my own strength to carry me through -- it has once before. I am so proud of my husband and would do it all over again. I didn't have the wedding of my dreams, the honeymoon we all hope for, or the first year as a married couple we all expect to experience, but I am proudly married to my infantry husband and support him in everything he does. Giving birthMy husband was deployed in September 2005. We have an 8-year-old boy, and I was five months pregnant. We were afraid that he was not going to be here for the birth of our second child. My due date was January 18, 2006. He was due to come home January 15 for R&R but didn't make it. On January 22 at 4 p.m. I looked out the window and saw a truck pulled up to the driveway; it was my husband, a friend had dropped him off. I thanked God he made it home, and just in time. By 11:30 that night, we were already in the hospital, our little girl was ready, her daddy was home. I had her the next day, January 23, at 1:14 p.m. God works in mysterious ways. We got to spend the first two weeks of our daughter's life together. He's gone, she's 4 1/2 months old, and she will be 8 months old by the time her daddy comes back home. He is our hero, and we miss him a lot. Sgt. Cruz, we love you. May God bless our troops and their families. My Colorado Air National Guard unit was coming home after our deployment to Balad, Iraq in 2004. It was an experience I will never forget, we were shot at on a daily basis and spent most of our time wearing body armor and Kevlar helmets. The average temperature each day was well over 100 degrees, which is not far from the temperature in my hometown of Lamar, Colorado. On the day we left, walking to the C-130 to leave, two insurgent mortars landed about 40 yards from where we were at. That was the scariest moment of the whole deployment. I saw the mortars coming at us and could hear the whistle as they passed and exploded nearby. On the way home we stopped for two days in Qatar on our way to Colorado. It was nice to not be shot at for the first time in over a month and a half. While in Qatar, I was keeping cool out of the heat, taking a nap in our tents, when my first sergeant woke me up and told me, "Hey, something happened to your wife." In a slight panic, I ran around the base and found someone to let me call home. Much to my surprise I discovered my pregnant wife had gone into labor a month early and was taken to a hospital in Denver. This was not a routine pregnancy, since we were expecting twin girls. I got home two days later and was able to watch my daughters being born. We named them Hope and Faith -- the two things that got me through my deployment to Iraq. My husband left for training for Iraq on our daughter's first birthday. A week later I found out I was pregnant with our second child. His unit left in November for Iraq. I was due the first week in May, and my husband was to come home that week to be there when our baby was born. Three weeks before I was due my doctor told me I could have my baby any time, that I was ready to have him. So with prayers, my doctors and the help of the Red Cross, we were able to get my husband home two weeks early. He made it one day before we welcomed our beautiful baby boy into the world! We are so proud of our daddy and husband! I want him to know that I love him very much and we are so excited for that day this fall when he will return home to us! Last year my husband left for Iraq when I was four months pregnant. We discussed my pregnancy over the phone and through letters, but he didn't get to experience it first-hand. Unfortunately, he wasn't to arrive home until a week after my due date. Turns out my child was born a week late (some believe she waited for her daddy). I was supposed to pick him up. Instead, when he called to let me know he had just stepped off the plane, I let him know that I was on my way to the hospital. ... He made it to my side three hours before the birth of our first child, Sierra. It was the most amazing and hectic night of our lives. He left for Iraq as a husband and he came back as a dad. SurprisesIt was late October 2004. I was attending a lunch meeting at Cafe Excell, a local dining establishment in College Station, Texas. I was in the back of the restaurant at the head of a long table, our meeting had started and we were discussing various things that we would be doing in the next couple of months. I was taking notes and eating some bread when I heard someone say, "Mom." I ignored the sound, thinking, "My son is in Afghanistan, that couldn't possibly be him," and then again I heard the sound, "Mom." Once again, I ignored it, thinking it was not possible. Much louder this time I heard "Mom!" I looked up, and standing in the doorway was my beautiful son! I jumped out of my chair, ran to the door and received the best hug I have ever felt in my life. We held each other and cried together for 15 minutes. I kept looking at his face examining his hands, his body, like a new mother exploring her newborn baby. People in the restaurant started clapping, whispering from one table to the next, who and where did this soldier come from. We turned around and people stood up to welcome my son home for his two weeks of R&R. I will never forget that moment in time, and as I type this note to you tears are streaming down my face. A beautiful memory for me -- thank you for giving me the opportunity to share it with you. After he returned to Afghanistan, his right wrist was injured so much so he has received a medical disability. He is home this Memorial Day and we will be cooking steaks on the grill to remember his time serving his county. I am so very proud of my son and all the others who have served for me. My son, Capt. Ryan Havner, was with the 63rd Ordnance Battalion and was deployed to Baghdad for a year. He was scheduled to come home in February, making it the first Christmas my five children would not be together. I told him I'd keep the Christmas tree up until he got home. The last thing I did on Christmas Eve was take a picture of his stocking and our tree with all the presents underneath -- including his -- and e-mailed it with a poem about how much we missed him and loved him. Then I went to bed. When the doorbell rang at 8:30 on Christmas morning, I was so sleepy that all I thought was, "Who can be ringing my doorbell on Christmas morning?" (If I had been more awake I would have thought, "I hope nothing's happened to Ryan.") When I opened the door he was standing on my doorstep. It was the best Christmas I ever had. I still cry when I think about it. He's been back to Baghdad once since then and will return in August. The relief when he steps on American soil is incredible. But the joy of that Christmas morning is indescribable. In 1998, I was deployed to Al Jaber Air Base, Kuwait. My unit was deployed at the end of October with a return time of December 15, 1998. Well, my wife decided to return to Indiana (we lived in Alaska at the time) without me and spend Christmas at home with her mom and family. The plan was I'd return to Alaska and we'd celebrate as a family when they (wife and kids) returned to Alaska in January. I went behind my wife's back and with her mom's help bought a round-trip plane ticket for December 24. I figured if I got back on the 15th it would give me plenty of time. So only myself, her mom, and my uncle knew about my plan. Well on December 14 my unit found out we were staying in Kuwait to bomb Iraq. I thought that my chance of returning to Indiana was shot and I would truly be alone at Christmas. On the 22nd we ceased bombing Iraq, and immediately the base commander was trying to get us home. So on the 22nd I arrived in Alaska, with no one knowing from my family that I'd be there. I was the first one off the plane but had no one to welcome me because all my family was in Indiana. So I played the remaining days until the 24th as if I was still in Kuwait. On the 24th I left Alaska in the early morning hours and arrived in Indiana about 9 p.m. At approximately 11:30 p.m. Christmas Eve night, I surprised my mother-in-law, and walked to where my wife and 3-year-old little girl were. Down the stairs I went to the basement bedroom and my wife jumped out of bed into my arms for a great hug. The thing that got me was my little girl, who with tears in her eyes crawled across the bed. I ended up surprising everyone, and though I had no one to welcome me in the airport, it was a great homecoming. I'm writing this from Balad, Iraq, and once again, my wife and children don't know when I'm coming home, but she is in for the surprise of her life when she does see me My husband was deployed for a year to Camp Anaconda in Balad. Our girls, ages 5 and 3, and I were excited about him returning home, but I put a lot of pressure on myself to make everything "perfect" for him, and I was also worried about the demobilization process and how it would affect our family. My husband had a couple days of leave in Texas before he could return home to Wisconsin, so our friends in Colorado pooled their air miles and flew him out for the weekend. They then flew me out (with eight hours' notice) to surprise him. They also put us up in a hotel for the night, and flew me back the next day. I don't know why, but that took away all the homecoming pressure -- we could reconnect with each other and not worry about anything else for a while. When he returned home a few days later, I didn't care about the house that wasn't clean enough, or the 20 pounds I hadn't lost ... I could relax and step back and let our family take center stage. Words can't express how grateful we are for all our supportive friends and family (and strangers) who kept our spirits up. Thank you everyone. My husband served as a civilian contractor 50 miles north of Baghdad in Balad from the very beginning of the war until April 2004. Our daughter was 6 at the time, and it was very hard for her to let Daddy go. He missed a lot while he was gone -- her first day of school, her first report card, etc. When we drove to Atlanta to pick him up at the airport, Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the U.S.A" came on the radio, and to my surprise my daughter sang along for the entire song. I had to pull over and take a deep breath. She told me her school teacher would play that song to the class on a regular basis and that's how she learned to sing it. She didn't know that this song has a significant meaning to my husband, who had also served as a soldier during Desert Storm. It was a very overwhelming day, and in the aftermath I have to say we grew stronger as a family as well as a married couple. God bless our troops! In mourningOur son Spc. Robert T. Hendrickson, assigned to the 1st Cavalry Division from Ft. Hood, Texas, came home one year ago, February 7, 2005. Rob did not come home with flags flying, signs, cheering crowds, family members waiting to run across a tarmac. Rob came home quietly, in a mahogany coffin draped with the American flag. We embraced him as best we could, knowing we would not see him again after his service. Rob was a son, a brother, a father, an uncle, a cousin, a grandson. He went where he felt he needed to go. We have huddled around each other and his 7-year-old son Dylan to support and embrace each other as best we can. People ask us what do we need, what can they do. Our response has been to hug your kids, hug each other, and remember that life is precious. I personally have been asked if the situation in Iraq makes me angry. Anger is not there, except for the incredibly stupid way Rob died. We cannot leave Iraq without an exit strategy, otherwise those injured and killed would have died in vain. However, since we did not appear to enter that country with an exit strategy in place, I fully expect to be there longer than need be. Pulling out immediately hurts the soldiers and hurts our economy. We do the best we can, go on from day to day, remembering birthdays, Father's Day, Mother's Day, Memorial Day, and all the holidays that have an empty chair and an empty place at the table. We are one family of many that are in this situation. Do not forget our family members -- remember them always in your hearts and prayers. Thank you. In the last days of August 1990, my duffel bag sat propped up against the wall near the front door, ready for the call to report for deployment for Operation Desert Shield. My wife and I would sit on the front steps and talk about what was going to happen and what we should do during my absence. But on one of those afternoons, I got a call from Hahn Air Base, Germany from a friend informing me that a C-5 had crashed during take off from Ramstein Air Base. On board were two of my friends, one of which was Marc Cleyman, being deployed to perform the job he replaced me for because I had been reassigned to the States due to my wife's pregnancy. Had we chosen to have my son in Germany, I would have been the one killed. But, instead, I lost one of my closest friends. Sometimes I still feel guilty and feel the need to apologize to him. But the least I can do is honor his dedication and sacrifice he made for his country. I still miss you, Marc. My appendix ruptured in mid-October 2005, and that was the end of my tour of duty in Iraq. I was taken to Germany, spent a few weeks in the hospital and was back home in Los Angeles just before Christmas. It was surreal. My unit was still in Baghdad taking casualties, and I was home with my family. I felt fortunate and guilty at the same time. A couple of days after New Year's, I learned that my good friend Ron Corniel was killed in a mortar attack. No one who hasn't been through something like that can understand. It's not hard to adjust to being home. It's impossible to forget being there. Please also remember those who came back after combat and died from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) through suicide. My son, USMC Infantry Sgt. Boyd W. "Chip" Wicks Jr. died that way. After combat in Iraq from March-June 2003, he came back to the U.S. and was discharged in October 2003. In February 2004 he committed suicide. No one seems to want to care about him or the others who have died from PTSD after Iraq combat. Because they didn't die in a war zone or in uniform, they are forgotten, swept aside. They don't fit in anywhere during the services -- no one recalls these dead heroes, who also gave all. It's like having a special needs child in your neighborhood -- it's someone else's problem, it's someone else's heartache. After the warI have been back from Iraq a year now and it breaks my heart to see so many young men and women destroyed by war. What I mean is post-traumatic stress disorder. It is horrible and it causes so many problems. There are so many who need help but won't seek it. I am a living testimony that counseling helps. Please mention it as often as possible, because it is tearing so many lives apart. Let others know there is help and not to be ashamed. It's a tough life. You watch them leave, you fear for what's to come. My husband spent 18 months in Iraq, missing his two children and holidays. He came home a changed man. He was tougher than he ever was physically and mentally, and then it hits and the war pays its toll. Sleep problems, anger issues and other things that seemed to block him from who he was. I am proud he served and serves his country, but I am at a loss for the person I knew before he left. War does not just end, it lives with you forever. We live it every day. I served in Iraq and as a result have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). I know I am not alone in this, and I thought this might be a good time to make people aware of how profound the impact can be on those returning from a war zone. To the families: Stay strong and be patient. You may not recognize the person you love when they first come back and they may act differently than you remember. Watch out for PTSD symptoms such as intrusive recollection, uncontrolled outbursts of anger, nightmares, insomnia. These may be frightening, but ignoring the symptoms will not get your loved one the help they need. If you are concerned your loved one may be having trouble adapting, get them help. To my returning brothers and sisters in arms: If you notice that you can't sleep, that you are having nightmares, are suffering from depression, etc., tell your loved ones about it. They love you and will support you in your recovery. It doesn't matter that they "cannot relate." They love you, and their support will be the security blanket that you need to deal with all of it. Troops' point of viewOur Air Force unit was among the first to be inserted into Iraq back in 2003. Our unique mission calls for us to be first into a hostile airfield, then turn around and begin to receive coalition aircraft, carrying troops, weapons, vehicles and anything else that might fit inside a cargo aircraft. During the initial buildup prior, our unit bounced around and set up different airfields in the surrounding countries. Then the war began and we were again called upon. Baghdad, Balad, you name it, my unit was first there. We did so much in the first few months. Then when we finally got home, we returned to an empty passenger terminal with about 10 or so people. Nobody was sad or angry, we just got back into our vehicles and drove home to our families. Me being single, I went out to a bar with a friend. Walking into the bar was surreal. Nobody there knew where we had just come from or the things we saw. The first beer the bartender nonchalantly handed me was my first in months. Our hair had grown longer than regulation style, and the clothes we wore made us look like everyday citizens. I remember looking around at everyone who was just about the same age I was at the time (21), and they were just doing what young people do. Guys flirting with girls, girls flirting with guys, singing, dancing, doing all the things I used to take for granted, and they had no idea what our men and women were going through at that very moment a thousand miles away. No idea that men and women their age and younger were dying, and I had seen the faces of the wounded. Then I thought long and hard to myself: Good, I'm glad they haven't seen what I have seen or experienced what I have. That's the point of me serving, I hope no one ever has to. They also didn't know that in just a short while I'd be back starting my second tour. So I sat back, patted my buddy on the back for a job well done, and enjoyed my first ice cold beer. My story is not all that impressive, but I think it is important, especially for those who have no family or friends in the military, to know that not every soldier/sailor/airman/Marine who was called up went to war. My reserve unit was activated in 2003 for Operation Enduring Freedom. We ended up being deployed (that is what the Marine Corps calls it) to Marine Corps Air Station New River, Jacksonville, North Carolina. A few months later we returned home. We never left the States. I drove my own car "off to war," and I drove it home. I got home and quietly opened the front door. No parade, no fanfare; just the welcome of my family and a few close friends. A few weeks later, I was back at my civilian job like nothing had happened. Then you spend the next few years explaining to people that you have not been to war. It seems incomprehensible to civilians that one could be associated with the Marine Corps for, now, six years, and not set foot on foreign soil or dodge rounds. For me, that was the hardest part of the whole thing. You have people (civilians, your command) praising you and thanking you for your sacrifice -- but as near as you can tell there isn't much of a sacrifice. Not beyond what any active duty service member would give up during peacetime. I was deployed to Baghdad, Iraq with the 1st Armored Division from May 2003 to July 2004. We conducted missions in and around Baghdad, Falluja and Karbala. I was wounded in action in December of 2003 by an IED. I had mild injuries and I was able to talk my way into returning to duty the next day. ... After 15 months and having to literally fight our way out of Iraq, it all came to an end. When we arrived in Germany, they took all of us to the Post Gym where in the bleachers, all of the families of the soldiers waited. That was really nice for the some, but the rest of us (the single soldiers) it kind of hurt -- looking into a crowd of family members and not seeing any of yours. Re-adapting to normal life still to this day is hard. Knowing what we had to do. Most of the soldiers have moved on now and the unit I served with is back in Iraq. I left the Army in 2005 though I sometimes find myself missing it. For those who didn't make it home, I still remember. For my third homecoming I had the best one yet. When I arrived home to Narita International Airport in Tokyo, there were my four children with the lovely sign that they had all contributed to. (My 3-year-old had a little more to contribute than the others in the tornado department). I was worried because my littlest had been shy to me before when I came home. ... This time it only took having to go up the ramp at the parking garage while he went up the steps with everyone else. His own words were, "Where's my Dad?! I need my Dad." Since then it's been, "No, only my Dad do it." ... I didn't get to sit down with my wife until we sent all of the kids to bed that night because they were all over me telling me stories, how they are doing in school, etc. I was deployed three years ago when the war first began. I left behind my mother and sister who were both attending college at the time. I missed seeing the two of them receive their associate degrees. I also missed Mother's Day that year. This past Mother's Day, I did get to spend with my mother. I also got to be home and see both my sister and my mother walk across the stage and receive their bachelor degrees. What a great Mother's Day it was for my mother! After fighting in the war and having been home for some time now, it is just now setting into my mind, what my experience really was over in Iraq. I am so thankful that we have our freedoms that I have fought for. ... It was the most rewarding experience to serve our country during war time. I am blessed to have a wonderful family, mother and sister that stuck with me through the rough times. I am so thankful that I got to be home this past Mother's Day/Graduation (both happened the same weekend) and celebrate with them! God Bless America! Families' point of viewThis is the first time my husband and I have been apart from each other for more than two weeks at a time. He has served for 36 years. After he was retired in 2000 from the National Guard, he was asked to return to active duty. We never dreamed of the events that have changed all of our lives. He is a pediatrician, and now he is the medical ethics consultant to the Army surgeon general. He loves what he does and he feels compelled to do this so he can make a difference. I suspect we have had no harder than most and probably easier than some. We are best friends as well as devoted spouses. It is the little things -- hearing him breathing next to me in bed, listening to him laugh at something our 7-year-old son has said, seeing the way he wrinkles his nose when he is flirting with me. He has been gone nearly seven months, and in just 12 days he comes home for his leave. He sent me coffee so we can sit around the kitchen table and drink coffee and talk and watch our son play. The little things are the hardest. Both my son and I have had the dreams of him getting killed and not coming home. That is something that all of us live with all the time. I am proud of my husband, my lover, my, friend, my heart. And more than anything else I want him and all of our soldiers to come home as quickly as they possibly can. All my love to Col. Thomas C. Jefferson, MD, 1st Medical Brigade. I am a proud wife of a U.S. Marine, and I have been honored to be his best friend and wife for a total of 14 years so far with many more to come. The first thought that comes to mind in seeing him get on and off those buses is pride, loyalty and honor for our family and our country. He is a humble man, and to see the hundreds of men and women who proudly serve only shows the strength and unity of our country. I have stood by him through Panama, Desert Storm, Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom. As a wife, I feel that our ability to protect the country as a family is what truly makes America great. The life of a military wife is not always easy, but we have a bond between the wives that is unbreakable. We share each others fears, laughs, triumphs, children's births, family functions, and sometimes mourning. There is no greater bond than that between a military wife and her military family. I'm honored to be part of the next generation that defends and protects all that is great and good in this beautiful country. Behind every great military man is a strong wife, mother, sister, grandmother and/or daughter. We truly hold the home front in our hearts, and we sacrifice with honor any and all that is needed for those we love and those who serve. Our country is great because they are great. My husband is deployed to Iraq and has been since October 2005. We have two children. Sarah is five and Brendan is about to have his 4th birthday in June. It hasn't been easy living through each day without him. ... We just look forward to his return. The kids and I are making plans for his return and every day that we get up is another day closer his return is. What amazes me is the ability of my children to not cry and moan about daddy being gone. They miss him like crazy, but they are so strong because they just know in their little hearts that daddy will be back soon. This message is for my brother Branden Taylor who is serving with the 101st Airborne Division in Iraq. I want you to know how incredibly proud I am to have you, and all the men and women like you, serving our country each and every day. There is no greater hero than you and you have my eternal thanks and gratitude. One day, when my niece is grown, I will tell her what a hero you are, and what you did for her. We love you and we can't wait to see you when you get home! 
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