Pink polka-dot sheets & a jade green bumper...

The room was dark and silent, a replicated picture of the night sky outside the open window, dotted with bright lights here and there, like cookie dough footprints of a toddler on black Berber. Shadows played off the orange sherbet walls, their origin from the trees rustling in the summer evening’s wind and the heat lightning off in the distant miles west.
Smooth, so smooth just like her baby brother’s. She traced the area where the tear fell down her daughter’s cheek, where some had been and dried; their attempt to shy away unseen botched by a mother’s instinct. She knew she was still awake, that she was only attempting to be brave in the face of all she had encountered. Her eyelids fluttered open - glassy, just as her mother had expected. Her daughter’s lips parted for words to be whispered, but were stopped as her mother placed her finger to her lips, her eyes softened as she pointed over to the crib in the corner.
With a solemn nod, staring at the pink polka dot sheets at her eyelevel, the little girl sniffed back a sob, her face giving way to the anguish tearing her up inside.
My brave little Emma… she doesn’t have to try so hard to hide it, we’re all suffering…
Pushing to the side her light hair, wet with tears, she kissed her hairline, one, two, three times.
Heading now over to the crib where her son lay fast asleep, she smirked upon seeing his delicate little lips formed into a pouty pose. Your father was right in picking your name; you are my little dark haired one… my Kieran. His tiny fingers curled about her thumb, his little muscles flexing in and out, in and out, in sync with the rise and fall of his small torso. The jade green pattern on the baby bumper next to his tiny features complimented his flushed complexion.
He is safe here.
But an unnerving thought crossed her mind as she stood there against the wall, waiting for her son to wake up for his eleven o’clock feeding. Unlike his baby boy, Bradley is falling asleep to the booming ring of missiles and the whizzing of shells overhead…
Slowly sinking to the floor, the wall behind her her guide, her chest shook with sobs…


p.s. Sometimes it's easy to forget what the men and women that serve this country go through, and I wrote this a while back after thinking about what life may be like for army wives/husbands/children. It makes me appreciate what they do for our country even more.