My Isaiah Joseph,

Today came out of nowhere. We ended up driving forty minutes out to an Air Force Reserves Base to go to the commissary there. We haven’t been to a commissary since February, but the commissary has been our “main go to” since Missouri. We were always within five minutes and it was just so easy, Hawaii was right across the street.

As soon as we walked in it took me right back. Every single commissary looks the same. They’re all owned by the same people and they’ve all looked similar each place we’ve went to. This one was much smaller than what we were used to, but just the signs and the colors was enough.

I lost it. I don’t know why and I do know why at the same time. I called daddy and woke him up because I thought it seemed ridiculous. The commissary had this feeling of “home” for me and I missed it. There was this odd comfort that came with being there and I just didn’t want to leave. Your siblings felt it too, you could tell by the way they were acting in the store.

Going to a commissary was part of my routine the last thirteen years. We didn’t live as close to it in Tennessee, but that’s still where I did the majority of the shopping. The commissary in Tennessee is where we used to go and see the helicopters after or before shopping. You and Ellie loved to run around and look at them every single week. Walking from that parking lot into the store is also where Ellie’s elbow came out of the socket for the second time in her life. Missouri’s commissary brought us the friendliest worker who we bought a birthday gift for and that was also the store where I caught you as you were falling out of the shopping cart while reaching for sprinkles. I only remember constantly complaining about the setup of Virginia’s commissary compared to Missouri. Hawaii’s commissary brought us the amazing local section filled with goodies and that was always the place where random Aunties got excited and would give you guys a few dollars.

I cried on and off that whole shopping trip, I cried the entire way home, and I’ve cried every hour since we’ve been home. Daddy said I probably shouldn’t go back to the commissary anytime soon, while I want to go back there and just sit in the safety and comfort of it.

I want the safety and comfort of my old life when I had my four beautiful children with me. My life where I was living in bliss, my entire family together, and I thought nothing “bad” could happen. I want to go back when I was naive and stressed about stupid things that were pointless and didn’t matter. I want to go back where I knew what it felt like to be a whole person and not one that was broken and couldn’t be fixed.

I wish I could give your siblings that “safe and home” feeling here with me, but it’s difficult. They all watched me cry the entire day and Elijah attempted to make me happier tonight by hula dancing to Somewhere Over the Rainbow for me before bed. He ran out of moves and just started shaking and bouncing his butt, which for him is always the answers.

I’m hoping to “sleep this off” and wake up with a clearer mind. You are my world and I love you so incredibly much, baby boy. Goodnight and sweet dreams.