Finding Your Roots

When I stepped off the bus this morning, I never knew and could hardly ever have imagined that I would find out that Isabella is pregnant. Now I can't say it is a complete surprise, for, well, I kind of could not keep it in my pants. This was bound to happen sooner or later, and I can honestly say that I am grateful that it did not happen at camp. Well, it sort of did, but at least she is not pregnant and deploying. 

The mere thought that I, half a broken man, am becoming a father brings another accomplishment to mind. I am still a boy, learning to be a man, but now I am going to be a man that needs to learn how to be a father. This is terrifying; I can take a mission head-on but put a little life in my arm. I am about to learn a whole new meaning to life.

Now there is only one life that has become important to me, apart from Isabella's, that is. I might not be holding my child in my hands, but I know exactly what Harrison means. Yes, Isabella cannot deploy anymor