Yes, I know it was yesterday, but I took a 3-day break from the internet and 
this is the first I have stuck my head in the door. Just wanted to let the 
people who have been military know that they are appreciated. Also, I wanted to 
share an essay they played on NPR yesterday.

Contributor: Becky 
Location: Sacramento, CA 
Country: United States of America 
Series: Contemporary 
  
Listen to this essay on NPR 
  
 
I believe that my husband will call me tomorrow.

Tonight I'll say, ''Have a great day,'' and ''I love you'' to my husband, who 
is 11 time zones away in Iraq. Then I'll hang up the phone. I'll fall asleep as 
I did last night, next to our baby daughter. We'll sleep in the guest bedroom 
downstairs — it's less lonely to sleep there for now.

First, I'll pet and talk to our dogs. I weaned them from sleeping with me a few 
months ago, but they still seem a bit disappointed when I go off to bed without 
them. I'll promise them a long walk tomorrow, and I'll make good.

In bed, I'll lay my hand on our daughter's chest several times before I fall 
asleep, just to make sure that she is breathing. I'll curl up in two blankets: 
one from Guatemala, one from Peru. I'll allow these souvenirs of past travels 
to warm the empty space in the bed. I'll get up three times during the night to 
feed our baby. Each of those times I'll tell her that she has a beautiful life 
to look forward to. I can say this because I believe that my husband will call 
me tomorrow.

In the morning after my cup of coffee, I'll change diapers and move around 
loads of laundry. I'll pour dog food, eat cereal, get dressed, and do the 
dishes — all with one hand, holding our baby in the other. I'll do the 
shopping, pay the bills, and stop in at work to see how my employees are 
getting by. Every three hours I'll stop what I'm doing to feed, change and play 
with our daughter. I'll make good on the promised walk with our baby strapped 
to my chest and a dog-leash in each hand. When people say, ''Looks like you 
have your hands full,'' I'll smile and acknowledge that it's true, but I make 
the best of it because I believe that my husband will call me tomorrow.

If there is a letter addressed to me from the military, I'll open it because I 
believe that my husband will call me tomorrow. If there is a knock at the door, 
I'll answer it, because I believe that my husband will call me tomorrow.

And when he does, I'll talk to him and tell him again that I love him. I'll be 
able to hang up the phone, keeping my fear at bay, because I believe — I must 
believe — that my husband will call me tomorrow.  
  
This essay is copyrighted material; no reproduction or excerpting is permitted 
without written consent. 
  
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10365439

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