2 years, 3 months, 5 days

2 years, 3 months, 6 days

2 years, 3 months, 7 days

2 years, 3 months, 8 days

2 years, 3 months, 9 days

2 years, 3 months, 10 days

It has been 2 years, 3 months, and 11 days since I last saw my father. He works in the navy, and has been overseas, I don’t know exactly where he is; he is not allowed to tell us, but tomorrow he is finally coming home, for good!

I have stayed up all night planning for him, I can’t wait!

Today is the day, me and mom are standing out on the driveway holding up welcome home signs, we have been out here for a while, but dad is always notoriously late.

We have been waiting for hours, but still no dad in sight. I hear my mom's phone ring inside the house, so she goes to pick it up. Now it is just me sitting on the curb outside. I see a piece of chalk, so I pick it up and start to draw. I like to draw a lot, Dad even sent me a sketchbook for my birthday last year.

“Hanna,” Mom says, coming outside, her eyes are red, and she looks like she has been crying, “Your father isn't coming back today, he got sent on another mission,” Mom says, her voice quivering.

“What do you mean Dad’s not coming?!” I shout, but I don't wait for her to respond. I have been waiting for this day, for 2 years, 3 months, and 12 days, and now it is still not here. I sprint down the street, past my best friend's house, past the community garden, past the basketball court and soccer field, I run to the monkey bars where dad used to push me, when I was younger, and I stop running and start to swing, tears running down my cheek, like a river.

“Why are you crying, kiddo?” I hear, I turn, to see a man, about 6 feet tall, with olive skin, and no hair, wearing a camo jacket, camp pants, and a cameo hat with a navy seal sign on it.

“Daddy!” I yell, jumping into his arms, my smile as big as the sun itself.