That roof was our first house which I've talked about here. I miss that house and the memories created in it, but the Army definitely teaches you that no matter where you are, as long as you are with those you love, you can make it home. I don't really want to test that theory on places like Fort Polk, Louisiana, and kind of feel like we are paying our dues here in central Texas, but hey, it could be worse.
We definitely made our house in Georgia a home. And I think we're managing to do the same here. Recently, I hung something special in our home and I wanted to share. When we closed on the house in Georgia, we received a needlepoint with the following letter from Miles' mom:
. . . . . . . . . . . .Dear Miles and Caroline,
The following story is true.
On a cold October evening in 1983 the Duty Train pulled into the station in Berlin, Germany. The Soldiers from 3rd Battalion, 6th Infantry Brigade were returning from a field training exercise in the zone. Several of the troops were ill. Within days, two battalion wives mysteriously miscarried. I was called to come to the hospital ASAP, my unborn child of three months and I were at risk. We were put in isolation in a hyper-oxygenated room with an antibiotic IV, IV, oxygen, fetal monitors, heart and blood pressure monitors, and warming booties (my feet were cold). For days we stayed in isolation. My husband, Jorge, and young son, Jared, visited occasionally waving from the glass window across the room. I passed the hours reading, praying, and working on a needlepoint kit. The kit was done with each stitch taken in deliberate hope. The kit title was "Home Sweet Home." We were discharged when risk passed. I framed and hung the work above our crib, anxious to bring my baby home.
Our child was born healthy on April 13, 1984. He had an unusual birthmark on his tummy shaped like a kiss. The nurses and I knew that was where the Angel kissed him six months before. He would not go to Heaven early but would go home safe. The embroidery has hung in all our homes since. It is yours now. May you both always come home safe and believe each house you make your home is Home Sweet Home.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
And because I'm the best wife ever, and Miles is in the field (again!) and unable to stop me, I went in search of a picture of him without a shirt on to showcase said birthmark. I threw an arrow on there because I knew it'd be hard to focus on the task at hand with adorable 11 month old Finn in the picture. But can you see his lip shaped birthmark? I love it. And I love it even more knowing the full story behind it.
Wherever we are - as long as I've got these guys, I know it will be Home Sweet Home.