I
look forward to his phone call every morning. It’s become a ritual. He hurries
off to school with the breakfast and lunch I’ve made for him, kisses us all
goodbye, and before I know it we’ve hardly had a chance to say hello to each
other. Which is why I make sure I’m available to answer the phone when he calls
me in about twenty minutes. He has about a ten minute walk from his car to his
morning class, and instead of listening to music, reviewing notes, or just
having a quiet walk, he calls me. Sometimes we talk about important things,
other times not so important. But who cares…we talk. For the most part, it’s a
chance for us to tell each other “I love you” and to wish each other a good
day, because I might not see or talk to him again until late. Though our conversation is brief, the act of him pulling out
his phone to call me (me!) speaks so
loudly. It’s little things like this that show me he loves me, that he cares
about me, that he’s thinking about me even though his load is so heavy these
days.
I’ve asked him to never stop calling me, even when there’s nothing to
say... I like hearing him whistle too.
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