The power of a phone call

I didn't hear from K last night. I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep very well as a result, and I felt like I was just dragging all day at work.

When someone you love goes through something dangerous, even if you know they're OK, it's hard to feel better about things until you see them again. It just gives you a bit of closure to see them before you and know that they're all right.

With the deployment, the visual closure is something I won't get for a long time. And in this case, I didn't even have a phone call or an email from K.

I emailed my family group person today to send her a link to some photos someone had sent me of soldiers in our husbands' battalion. When she emailed me back, she told me she had been able to talk to her husband for a few minutes on instant messenger last night. He had told her that they were on a communication blackout, which meant they wouldn't be able to call for a while. That meant I had no idea when I'd hear from K again.

I had prepared myself for a few more days without closure. I reminded myself that at least K was one of the ones who was OK -- it could definitely be much, much worse. Given the alternative, I was lucky to have to wait a few more days for closure. I could handle it.

And then my phone rang late this afternoon. It was K. He sounded tired, and he sounded a little stressed, but I would be too if I'd endured a few days of being shot at with rocke.ts and mort@rs. All in all, though, he sounded fine -- the same old K.

He told me he was indoors during every attack. He'd even been asleep when some of them started, since some came at about 5:00 a.m.

He told me the fact it had been so long since we'd last talked had added to his stress and fatigue. I know I always notice my steps are quite a bit heavier and I even feel like my posture starts to decline when it's been over a week with no communication from him. It's like the weight on my shoulders gets heavier and heavier once we hit a week since our last phone call. It's crazy how much lighter I feel once we talk.

After K told me a little more about the attacks (and the resulting increased security on base), we moved on to more enjoyable topics: Piper, updates on our lives, updates on friends' lives, care packages, R&R plans ... We were able to talk for about 50 minutes.

It felt better to know more about the attacks, rather than just the number of wounded soldiers and the number who died. It felt better to hear from K himself that he's fine. But most of all, it felt better to hear his voice, to catch up on each other's lives, and to realize that the bounce in my step had returned as I hung up the phone to go finish my day.