One Ringy Dingy

I am sooooo happy! Amazing what one phone call can mean. It’s 11:00 p.m. here in the States, but way far away in Afghanistan it’s about 8:00 tomorrow morning.

I was already in bed. The phone rang two rings. Odd. It’s kind of late for calls and all my sons have cell phones, so what’s up? Then it rang three times. I wondered what was going on but, hey, other people were still up, so they could handle the phone.

And the next thing I know I’m talking to Afghanistan in the guise of a wonderful Marine I’ve known since he was in the third grade. I’ve written about Micah before. He was in my son’s grade all those years ago and they’ve remained best friends through all the little traumas of childhood and the big ones of adulthood, namely Iraq and Afghanistan.

Micah finished his tour in Iraq only to be deployed again. And now he’s where all that fighting has been in the news lately. It’s awful. I hate that he is there. I hate that any Americans are there. After 9/11 I was pretty gung-ho on revenge. No longer. I want our boys and girls home. Safe and sound.

Micah sounds good. He had his first shower in four months. Can you imagine! I can’t. Again, I hate everything about it. On the weekend I went to see the movie “Dear John.” Dumb choice; I thought of Micah the whole time. I pray he comes home safe, well and whole.

Now I am so torqued that he sounded so good I can’t sleep! I’m up here in my little sanctuary with the Beatles cranked! It’s a mini-Micah celebration for one. But it’s nothing compared to the BIG Micah celebration when he returns home in June.

Please keep Micah and all the other brave men and women in the armed forces in your prayers.