That first night without you near me was excruciating. Walking through the apartment, I move your jacket from the kitchen chair to the closet. You will not be back for it for a year or more. Looking at your handwriting on the notes you wrote to me. "The mower is temperamental baby, yelling at it won’t help. Press the choke twice, then pull to start.” The little notes on the calendar telling me garbage pick up is on Thursday mornings, as if I wasn’t the one who always reminded you. That makes me smile. The one making the passing of time painful clear – "Make sure to take the car to Ted’s for an oil change in April, July, October, January, and if I’m not back home yet, start the months over”.

I go to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth for the first night alone in bed. Another reminder of you makes me laugh as I pull out the toothpaste with no cap. I love you so much baby. I return the toothpaste to the drawer with no cap, just for you.

The bedroom is dark, quiet. Pulling back the comforter and climbing into the chilled sheets, I realize your feet won’t be there to keep mine warm. I instinctually move to my side of the bed, then realize the expanse of our queen sized bed with one look to your empty side. I pull your pillow to me and breathe in your scent. Emotions grab hold of me and I sob into the pillow until I pull back, gasping for air. It is the first night of hundreds, alone and worried, without you in my arms.

The following day, the other military wives come over, pulling me out of my depression and take me to the spa. They try to make things lighthearted and normal, not knowing that I am secretly scanning the exits of this place for a quick escape. I can see you laughing hysterically right now, me being tortured in this Girly Girl Hell. Very funny, baby. Lunch and drinks went by in a blur and then I was back home, missing you again.

The monotony of my days stretches on, for weeks, for months. Wake up, work, home, lonely night. Again and again, I cry for you, crave you, worry for you. Solace comes in small pieces - an email from you, a picture of you and the guys, a Valentine’s Day card full of hugs and kisses. Thank you notes from everyone for the socks, foot powder and air fresheners. I box up Peeps and Easter cards for everyone to send home. Red, white and blue decorations with games, music and DVDs for the Independence Day celebration. I laugh as I add a little note telling you not to use flare guns or grenades as fireworks. I miss you so much baby.

My birthday is here and you are a thousand miles away. I get to the office and my co-workers are grinning away as I walk to my desk. It’s filled with beautiful flowers and a huge card that reads, "Even though I’m miles away, know that I could want nothing more than to be right there with you.” I can’t hold back the tears and the girls just smile and hug me, telling me everything will be OK.

Packing up a box filled with candy corn, rubber bats and those nasty all-too-real looking rats you love scaring the hell out of people with in their beds and foot lockers. Time slips by and I don’t hear from you. My heart races with fear, dreading the worst. Never looking out the front windows, petrified to see the black sedan with the soldier in dress blues and chaplain walking toward the front door.

Finally, a message from you saying you are so sorry for being away from me. Telling me that you should have tried harder to reach me. That you are safe, but still hunkered down in your makeshift camp. The enemy is close, but you have finally gained the upper hand and are in control. Then the worst. Your words filling my heart and cutting me deep, all at once. You are desperate to return to me, but your deployment will run a month later so that your papers can be processed and your unit can return home. Four more months. No Christmas, or New Year’s Eve with you. You apologize over and over again, but all I can feel is hopelessness.

Mindlessly, I navigate through the days, shipping boxes of Thanksgiving treats and Christmas presents to you and the guys. Thanksgiving dinner at Maggie and John’s place nearly brings me to the edge. Watching her care for him, kiss him, smile at him as he slices the turkey. His deployment ended just three short weeks ago and I stood by her side as the soldiers disembarked the airplane. The moment they caught each other’s eyes, it was as if he never left. I want that to be us, baby.

The Christmas tree is up with the lights casting golden shadows across the walls and ceiling. Carols lilt across the room from the TV; "I’ll Be Home for Christmas” stings as I’m reminded of how alone I am this Christmas Eve. Boxes of honey gold and ruby red dot the tree skirt – the midnight blue dress shirt I couldn’t stop thinking of you wearing, new slippers to make you comfy when you return, the fishing pole I know you’ll be using at the first sign of Spring, and the tiny, special box. The new wedding band I had made for you, because the desert sand has been so harsh to the one I placed on your finger six years ago on our wedding day.

Tears stream down my face as I look at the tattered brown box with the mailing label from Afghanistan stating in bold letters, "DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS EVE”. I pick it up and slice through the tape, revealing a hand written note from you – "Merry Christmas Baby. I will love you forever.” You always did know how to make my heart flutter with your words. I reach inside and find a smooth, red velvet box.

Looking inside, a renewed flow of tears begins as I see the beautiful silver heart-shaped locket. Slowly, I release the latch and bring my fingers to my tear-soaked lips. Inside the locket, a perfect heart-shaped ruby and the inscription that took my breath away, "My heart is yours”. I carefully remove it from the box, when a knock at the door interrupts me.

Opening the door, it takes my mind what seems like hours to realize that it is you standing in front of me. I am sobbing tears of joy before I can move – you sweep me up in your arms and kiss my face hundreds of times. "Baby, I’m home for Christmas! I love you baby!” I awake from my trance and return your kisses quickly, then deeply and passionately. You bring me inside, closing the door behind us.

Looking into your beautiful eyes, you realize I am ecstatic and confused all at once. Pleading, you explain, "Baby, I didn’t want to hide things from you, but they told us just after Thanksgiving that we would be released from this tour in time to be home for Christmas! I wanted to surprise you!” Just then, your words register in my head. "You are home for good baby?”

You look down at me, kiss my forehead and then notice the locket in my hand. Taking it from my hand, you caress my shoulders and turn me around, resting my back against your chest. You place the locket around my neck, secure the latch, and rest your lips against my ear. "Yes my love. My heart has always been here with you, and now, so am I. I love you baby.”

The most wonderful Christmas gift I ever received wasn’t under the tree wrapped in paper and bows; it was in my arms in dusty, sand-colored fatigues.