Every morning, Mommy puts on her Army boots—big, strong boots that have traveled far to help and protect others.

When she ties them tight, I know another brave day is beginning.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Mommy says.

“Good morning, Mommy,” I say, and our day begins.

At home, it’s just Mommy and me.

While Mommy gets ready for work, we make breakfast together. 

She flips the pancakes, and I taste-test the syrup

just to make sure it’s good!

“You’re my best helper,” Mommy says.

I smile because Mommy may wear the uniform, but we’re a team.

She takes care of people, and I help take care of her.

That makes me feel pretty brave, too.

I watch Mommy put on her Army uniform.

She zips her jacket, puts on her patches, and stands tall with a smile.

Sometimes Mommy has to travel very far away and stay there for a while.

Mommy calls it deployment.

I call it the part I don’t like.

“You are brave, just like me,” Mommy tells me.

I try to be brave, even when I feel like crying.

Then Mommy reminds me:

“Being brave doesn’t always mean being strong. 

Sometimes being brave means waiting, even when waiting feels really hard.”

I sit beside Mommy and watch as she packs her Army bag.

“Want to help me pack?” Mommy asks with a smile.

“Yes!” I say, scooting closer.

Fold by fold. Zip by zip.

Before she closes it, I tuck in a drawing of us holding hands.

“So you won’t forget me,” I whisper.

Mommy gives me a big hug and kisses my forehead.

“Oh, sweetheart. I carry you everywhere.”

Before she leaves, 

we share our special hug:

two squeezes from me,
one big squeeze from Mommy,
and a tiny nose kiss in the middle. 

At Mommy’s unit, I see big white buses and other soldiers with their families, just like us.

Mommy kneels down beside me 

and places a stuffed lion in my arms.

“His name is Courage,” she says.

“Whenever you miss me, hug Courage and imagine you’re hugging me.”

Mommy gives me one more big hug before she gets on the bus.

The bus begins to leave.

Grandma and I wave goodbye.

Mommy’s bus gets smaller and smaller until I can’t see her anymore.

But I can still feel her smile in my heart.

While Mommy is away, I stay with Grandma.

She takes care of me just like Mommy does.

Grandma helps me get ready for school, brushes my hair, and even bakes cookies with me.

At night, she reads me bedtime stories and tucks me in.

“You are never alone,” Grandma tells me.

I give her a great big hug.

Sometimes Grandma tells me stories about Mommy when she was little.

“We’re making happy memories to share with Mommy when she comes home,” she says.

That helps me feel like Mommy is still a part of everything, even from far away. 

Some days, missing Mommy makes me very sad.

I miss her laugh and her hugs.

I wish she could come home right away.

But I hug Courage, just like Mommy told me. 

I take a deep breath, 

and remember that I can be brave while I wait.

“I miss my Mommy,” I whisper.

Grandma gives me a warm hug.

“It’s okay to cry and miss Mommy,” she says.

Every day we wait with love

is one day closer to being together again. 

Sometimes Mommy calls. Her voice carries love across the ocean, making far away hearts feel close. 

“How’s my brave girl?” she asks.

“I’m trying,” I say with a giggle.

We talk about silly things like pancakes, Courage the lion, and how much we miss each other.

“Is Courage taking good care of you?” Mommy asks.

“Yes! He sleeps with me every night!” 

“I still miss you a lot, Mommy.”

“Mommy misses you, too. Every day you wait brings us one day closer to our next hug.”

When the call ends, I feel happy and sad at the same time.

Grandma calls those mixed-up feelings. And it’s okay to feel both.

One night, I lie in bed with tears on my pillow.

I look at the stars sparkling outside my window and remember that Mommy can see the same stars, even though we are far apart.

I hug Courage tightly.

“I miss Mommy,” I whisper.

I miss her a lot.

Then I remember her words:

“You are brave, just like Mommy.”

I wipe my tears and hug Courage even tighter.

I close my eyes and think about Mommy’s love, her hugs, and her smile.

And somehow, she doesn’t feel quite so far away.