It's not really that long. It's not the end of the world. It's not forever.
But it is a really long time.
In 400 Days, my daughter went from inside me to walking around and talking. She learned to smile, laugh, sit up, roll over, fall asleep on her own, feed herself, play, talk, walk, run, make up songs, tell jokes . . .
In the next 400 Days, she'll likely be joined by a baby brother or sister (a sister, if you ask her!), maybe she'll learn to potty in the toilet (Mommy's wishful thinking!), she'll turn two, and she'll learn a million more words, jokes, and motions for nursery rhymes and songs.
It's not the end of the world. It's not forever. But it's a long time to miss your grandpa . . . and my daddy.
Be proud of your grandpa, young one. He is going to a place where he'll be in danger . . . where he'll be learning new things and "playing" new games. There will be new people . . . many with guns, many with bombs and IEDs. But they'll be people, sweet thing, and that's why your grandpa is going. Grandpa will live a life no one should have to, and he really will be one of the safest people there. My darling daughter, I don't know if he'll come home. There are no promises. But I do know that the soldiers there--mommies, daddies, grandmas, grandpas, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, sons, daughters--will be lucky to have the man that we are lucky to have. For the next 400 Days you will know your grandpa only through technology. Through email and through webcams. For the next 400 Days Mommy will not curse technology again. Except when it doesn't work. Except when Mommy can't bring Grandpa into your living room for you to love and tell jokes to and sing songs together. Except if that tape erases, and we lose his stories.
My love, I wish that I could make this different. I'm sorry that you have to say goodbye for longer than you imagined. I'm sorry that your sweet "Bompa" will miss the next 400 Days and that you will wonder where he is and why Mommy is sad sometimes. I'm sorry that I can't promise he'll come back to us just because we tie a yellow ribbon on our porch and pray as hard as we can. Just know that Chaplain Bierenga loves you more than he can say. And that he'll do all he can to come back to you and hug you and swing you onto his shoulder and whisper in your ear.
Until then, 400 Days isn't so long. Really. Really?
