Love In A Box

Some might work 9-5, while others prefer to be homemakers and mothers, but not me. I can't settle for one set path, instead, I strive for every opportunity to improve myself; as a woman, wife, and mother to a beautiful four-year-old girl. Not to judge anybody for their lifestyle, quite the contrary, in fact, I salute them for being so sure of what they want in life. Here I am, trying to juggle the chaos of daily living, in addition to keeping my insecurities and anxieties in check, while my husband is overseas fighting for our freedoms and liberty. I miss him desperately every day. On paper, it seems glamourous, but being a military wife is a full-time career by itself. Physically and mentally demanding, especially to my patience!

It has been four hundred days since Alan got deployed overseas. The exact location is kept classified, with the exception of the dropbox address for care packages, to everyone. Once and a while I receive an encrypted email with videos attached for my daughter and I to watch, but as for talking to him, there Has been none. I knew it would be like this for a while. But what can I do? He's an officer, and his country needed his leadership. When we got together, I understood what I was getting into. The loneliness, the silence, the fear of receiving the dreaded phone call that could change everything, and the lack of a partner to assist in raising a child. Beneath it all, I am proud of who he is and what he does for other people, but I still miss him.

A few days ago, early in the morning, my daughter Jasmine and I were enjoying a hot breakfast in my spacious yet cozy kitchen. She was munching on crispy bacon strips and scrambled eggs while I was chewing on a toasted bagel with butter and jelly on it accompanied by a mug of coffee sweetened lightly and swimming in creamer. A routine we have come to enjoy. Nothing out of the ordinary happens, at least usually, except for that day. A loud knocking came from our front door. An odd occurrence as the mail doesn't come for another hour, but I quickly disregarded it. Several minutes later, another loud knocking comes from the door. Visibly annoyed, I checked out the commotion. I opened my door to find nobody there, but it wasn't bare. There was a strange, unmarked brown box wrapped up in paper and held together with twine rope.

I wasn't expecting a package, especially not one as odd as this one. As a mother, I'm protective over my child; therefore unwilling to put her life at risk for curiosity's sake. The mysterious brown paper box remained on my porch for both my safety and my baby girl. After several days, I received an email from my husband around 11 am. He explained that it was something he was expecting before his departure. He wasn't sure when it would arrive, so he gave me the go-ahead to bring it inside and open it up. However, no matter how much I begged, he would not tell me what it was. Said it was a big surprise. I wouldn't say I like surprises, but if it's from my love, it must be delightful.

Several minutes and a pair of scissors later, it was open. Tears welled up in my eyes after seeing the contents. It was a large, ornate wooden jewelry box. The design looked to be antique and was similar to the Turkish art style.

A gorgeous and thoughtful gift. I collect jewelry boxes, especially antique ones, so he got this for me. My goodness, I love this man! After collecting myself, I opened the box to inspect it further. Inside were two envelopes, one addressed to me, another for my daughter Jasmine, one photograph, and a small leather pouch. I'm nosy, so I read mine.

Dear Anna,

I miss you. These past four hundred days have been torture to me! Being unable to hug and kiss my favorite girls in the world is unforgivable. However, I know it's unavoidable for now. I hope this package finds you well; coming from Istanbul, Turkey (you didn't hear that from me). The box spoke to me from a local marketplace, as if by magic, as something you needed to have. Inside there is another letter and something special for Jasmine. Be sure to read it to her. Hope to see you ladies soon.

Your loving husband,

Alan Collins.

As if on cue, Jasmine walked into the kitchen for her mid-morning snack.

“Hi, Mama,” she said sweetly, grabbing a chair to sit in.

Same routine every day for over a year, so adorable.

“Hi, honey,” I reply, pushing her chair close to the dining table. “You hungry?”

She smiled.

“Yeah!” she squealed, throwing her hands in the air.

I grabbed her snack from the toaster oven, a reheated banana bread muffin, and a cold glass of milk from the refrigerator and placed them in front of her.

She enjoyed both of them in silence.

“Daddy sent a letter,” I told her as I cleaned the table.

Jasmine's eyes went wide with excitement.

“Daddy did!?” she exclaimed.

I opened the jewelry box and sat down to read it aloud to her.

Dear Jasmine,

Daddy misses you. Daddy loves you. He will be home very soon. I got you a present; I think you will love it.

Love,

Daddy.

P.S. Be good for mommy!

She grabbed the leather pouch inside the box and opened it.

She gasped.

“Mama pretty!” she squealed, jumping up and down in her chair.

It was a bracelet. Ornate, bejeweled, and beautiful.

“Yes, it is!” I whispered softly.

Suddenly, I remembered the photograph. What was it?

I was too curious, so I retrieved it from the bottom of the box.

It was Alan. A clear, unfiltered picture of him standing at the Rayleigh, North Carolina tourist greeting sign.

A few miles away from our house.

Suddenly, a loud knocking came from the front door.

Jasmine and I ran to answer it.

It was Alan, home at last.