My special Santa is half a world away

Brightly lit reindeer drink from a twinkling pool of lights. Illuminated icicles outline the homes. Santa sneaks down the chimney with presents to place under glittering trees. But our house is barren and dark because my husband won't be home—again—for Christmas.

Russell will be in Iraq for the third December in a row. He isn’t a soldier, but goes voluntarily as an independent contractor. Christmas is a time when most workers in Iraq are trying to get home. This leaves abundant opportunities to support the soldiers.

I understand separation periods from a father or husband during festive times do happen. If it is God's will to leave my husband's heart open to working in Iraq, who am I to question Him?

Yet, Christmas will not be the same without Russell.

December has always been my favorite month of the year. It starts off with my birthday on the 2nd followed by Christmas and New Year’s Eve. It was also the month I realized I had fallen in love.

Russell and I had been dating for five months our first Christmas together. That year I was on a mission to find the perfect tree in Monterey, Calif. I wanted the smell of a fresh Douglas fir. We took one home, and Russell placed it in the stand, but the base was too wide. We bought a new stand only to realize it was too small.

Unlike the TV character Tim the Tool Man, my father did not have many handyman gizmos lying around the house, let alone a saw. However, he did have a few good steak knives.

The sweat beaded up on Russell's forehead and trickled down his face as he spent hours whittling away at the tree trunk to make it fit, not for money or praise, but the simple fact to make someone happy.

It is that memory more than the fact it is Christmas that makes the separation more difficult, because it was when I realized I wanted to spend my life with this man.

Some say at least he gets paid well for being there. Is the money worth being shot or killed?

Christmas 2004 my husband was stationed in Mosul, Iraq. I prepared to do some last minute shopping when a news anchor announced the mess hall at Camp Marez had been bombed. Closing my eyes, I prayed because I knew there was a chance Russell was in the building. He went to lunch at 11:30 every day, and it was a 20-minute walk to the mess hall.

Twenty-two people died in the attack—14 soldiers, four U.S. civilian contractors, three Iraqi security forces and an unidentified non- American. Ninety-six people were injured.

That day my family and I kept vigil near the TV and searched the Internet for updates. The feelings and the activities in those moments were reminiscent of Sept. 11, 2001, as I waited to hear from the Red Cross about my sister, who was working in New York City.

Surrounded by family and friends, I never felt so alone.

I was out of state, so I called the contracting company’s emergency hotline to let them know how to reach me. The government had not released the names of the casualties or injured. Company officials only knew some of their employees were victims.

No phone calls were allowed in or out during that time. It would be 24 hours before I heard anything.

Russell was finally allowed to make a call. It was then I learned how close I came to being a widow. His friend and co-worker, who just minutes before sat beside him, died in my husband’s arms.

At times I believe we are tempting fate, and I am nervous. But it is God's reassurance that he has a plan for all of us that calms me.

This year Russell is stationed in Baghdad. On his first day, news reports said mortar rounds had penetrated his camp. A friend who heard of the bombing the following day, called to inquire about Russell. For a moment, I thought there had been another attack.

My heart sank as old feelings and memories resurfaced until I realized the friend was referencing the first attack.

But I still worry, especially with the current events surrounding the city. The threat of kidnapping is also a concern.

Russell said he won't let terrorists use him as a pawn to incite fear in Americans.

"They'll have to kill me because I am not going down without a fight. I won't let them use me against America."

It wasn't easy letting him go this time. Sometimes I feel guilty because he goes to fulfill his desire to support the troops and his desire to provide me with financial support so I don't have to work and can focus on school.

He is the least selfish man I know.

Some people don't understand how I can be so calm with him in Iraq because most times I smile while inside I am worried. However, my faith in God and the love Russell and I share sustain me.

It is not about the gifts we give to each other or the memories we create on Christmas. It is about the gift of our love and the moments we share every day regardless of where we are.