To the one who made me a mother...
Esther, I have been your mother for seventeen years and I can still remember the first time I heard you cry. A rush or joy, love and even fear swept over me. As I felt the tear roll down my cheek, I couldn't wait to hold my sweet baby. My heart ached for your daddy who was thousands of miles away sacrificing this moment for his country. I was surrounded by family but my heart ached as I missed my husband. I missed him for you Esther, I missed him because I understood everything he was missing. We were so young and in love but so far away. It would be six months before he would meet you, before our first family photo. It was so important for me to make sure this happened. There was this urgency that I can't explain about getting these done. It was actually the moments after you were born that I realized I needed to take pictures of everything. I have at least one photo from everyday of your first six months because I didn't want your dad to miss anything. I would take videos too, but I loved taking pictures of you and your dad loved getting them. We actually still have his bible from Iraq and the photos of you and of me are still inside of it. This to me speaks volume to me about the importance that they held to your dad. Seventeen years later he still has them. This is a love story not just me and your dad but the sweet little family that started with you.
