My Heros
"I wish daddy was here." I searched the pool at our development to see the source of the little lipsy, sad voice. I saw him in the shallow end tracing the surface of the water with his tiny hand holding a frogman plastic figure.
A tall slender browned haired woman carrying a second younger child was slowly pushing through the water making her way to him. "You know he's fighting the bad guys buddy in the desert."
"And in the forest," he said moving closer to his mommy. I made my way to the steps in the shallow end to listen to this exchange. "No, just the desert. You remember don't you Tommy. He's fighting the bad guys to keep us safe like Superman."
Our eyes met and Tommy's mom smiled and said her husband, his daddy, was deployed. She said it was hard for her young son to understand that he's in Afghanistan. It is an everyday, many times a day conversation I have when I'm at my house near Ft. Bragg and Pope Air Force Base in NC.
"My daddy's a super hero," Tommy said grinning a gapped beaming smile at me.
With tears in my eyes, I smiled back and splashed his little chest with water. "I don't even know your daddy Tommy, but he's my super hero too."
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