I was a mere three days away from getting my husband back and down to counting hours Thursday night when the phone rang. He was calling to tell me he was in Germany and to expect him in Atlanta at 7:30. And after I finished choking on my dinner roll I managed to wheeze “You mean, 7:30 tomorrow morning??” I so did not see that one coming. I expected delays, not twelve hours notice.
I also couldn’t have been happier. And I think I only slept about an hour and a half that night, then I left the boys with my parents and got up to drive to Atlanta at 4:00 am. The wait at the top of the escalators as soldier after soldier (but not my soldier) came up to baggage claim was just plain nerve wracking. And you guys, my eyes passed right over him the first time, even though he saw me immediately and waved. But when I realized it was him… after six months, just twenty short feet away… I ducked under the rope, ran right between the USO volunteers who were trying to shake his hand, and he caught me mid-air before I tackled him.
I may think about letting him go… never.