Sleepless in New Brunswick

He’ll be here tomorrow.

Well, technically it’s today. After all it is 3:00 AM.

When he said that things would happen quickly once the Cobra Commander signed off he really wasn’t kidding.

I got a quick call from the sandbox telling me that he was flying out of Kandahar in the next few hours and that he would call me from “the place that should not be mentioned.”

He didn’t have an itinerary or any other information other than he would know something once he landed in the “place.”

He’s been very conscious of the time difference throughout this entire tour. Other wives talk about being awakened in the wee morning hours by their hubbies. Mine knows that I’m not a morning person and has arranged his schedule to work with mine.

So, when I ask him to call me from “there” he makes sure to double check, as he knows it’ll be late.

“Honey – I’ll wake you up,” he warns.

“Don’t care,” I respond.

He could probably call every half hour between now and when I get to see him and I wouldn’t care. Sleep won’t be easy anyways. I’m too excited.

He’s excited, too. I can hear it in his voice. I can also hear him worry. He’s not good at hiding emotions.

We talk for a few more minutes then he’s off to shower and get ready before the flight out of KAF.

I’m practically doing the happy dance as I tell his mom that he’s on the move.

At 0200 when the phone rings I’m racing to get it. I’ve awoken every night for nearly eight months to an imaginary phone ringing. So the first ring doesn’t make me hit the floor running until the cobwebs clear and I remember our conversation from earlier.

“Rick?” I answer the phone.

“Well I better be the only man calling you at this hour of the night,” he responds.

I giggle in response.

“How do you feel about picking me up at the airport tomorrow at 1930?” He asks.
“Really?” Knowing full well that I’m being stupid.

Airport. Tomorrow. 1930. Rick. Airport. Tomorrow. 1930. Rick.

Sounds like a beautiful Gregorian chant at this point.

He’s tired and is heading for some rest before he gets the first leg of his journey to Frankfurt, Germany. From Frankfurt he’ll fly to Montreal; from Montreal to Halifax and then from Halifax to Fredericton. It’s a little bit of a milk run that has him flying over our house twice. He jokes that he’ll ask for a chute.

“I’ll catch you, baby,” I joke.

“Just pick me up and I’ll be happy.” And with that my late night phone call is done.

I’m too excited to sleep. I’m too excited to breathe.

I wonder how angry my friends would be if I called them now?

Hmmm – maybe I’ll wait until the sun comes up….

Day 220