I love, love, love getting a call from my husband in port!
I've been carrying my phone in my pocket like it's a pacemaker battery, terrified of missing his call by seconds. It's happened before, and it's more than a little disappointing. My friend who is about to have a baby once missed a call from her deployed husband by seconds, and her cry of despair made my son freeze on the monkey bars and yell, "Oh no, she's having her baby!"
But I did get his call, and hearing his voice was like balm to my soul. I feel like we talked forever, and yet it went by in the blink of an eye. And we didn't talk about one bill or mortgage or repair, wait, one speeding ticket did come up . , . But mostly, it was just a happy call with plenty to share.
When I was a kid, we used to get a phone call from Santa before Christmas, and occassionally, we'd also get a call from the man in the moon. (Who would thank us for all of the artwork we sent him that we'd run out of room for on the fridge). My dad was always at work when we got those calls, but we would excitedly fill him in when he got home.
Santa's got nothing on my man. Time for me to go to bed now, but I can't stop thinking of Harry Connick Jr.'s "The Man in the Moon is smiling . . . ."
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
