To a Soldier,
It's March 16, and our daughter has been born. A beautiful baby girl with her mother's face and her father's eyes. I cannot take my eyes off of her, sweetheart, and I see you every time I glance. It's amazing how such a new, lovable human being can be. She's given me you, she's brought you home even when you aren't here. It's pulled love from the depth of my heart just so I could spread it all to her.
Though a glorious occasion, it's never going to be the same since you're not here. You're not here to see her gorgeous face, but I am going to be putting a picture in here just for you. Keep close, and you can look our little girl all you want. She already misses you, I can tell. She's got that twinkle in her eye that's just calling for you. You always said you loved that sparkle in my eye, and I miss yours, more than you can imagine.
I got a letter from Jake today, the soldier at the base with you. He wished for both of you to be here. He's been telling me how much he loves all those sonograms I've sent you. He says you can barely take your eyes off them. He's coming home soon, too! And Esme is about ready to hit the ceiling with excitement. You know how she is at getting to plan a party.
Of course, it's going to be brutal with you not being here. Even Jake is dreading it.
Oh, I know I'm jumping topics here, but I really wish I could see you. I wish that every night, and every night I can't stop the tears from falling to my pillow. I always relive the day you left, when you went away, and I hate it. The memory is so vivid, like it just happened, and I can't keep it from replaying over and over in my head. I can't wait to see you again, have you hold me in your arms again so you can push all the nightmares away.
The nurse just entered the room, it's time to feed the baby! I will write again very, very soon.
I love you, to the stars and back again.
~Bella, Your Angel.
The letter was folded in a pristine manner, every crease delicate and light. The young, petite, brunette mother placed the paper in the envelope, closing it up. She glanced over at her child, three weeks old today, and rocked the chair the little angel was in beside her on the bench. Grabbing the handle and lifting the seat, she walked over to a sharply cut rock in the shape of a square.
The sweet mother bent down, resting the envelope against the stone, speaking a soft, whispered love lament one more time.
Here Lies Edward Cullen
Loving husband, father, great friend,
And first-class hero
Division 2, 115th veteran
May he Rest in Peace