Reaching Out

I hardly ever watched Sex and the City in our pre-TiVo days, because my husband did not enjoy it. But with him far away and the syndicated versions of the show airing about twenty times a day, I've caught a few episodes here and there.

Now the words, "I couldn't help but ask..." and "I couldn't help but wonder..." are stuck on replay in my mind for the foreseeable future.

I was actually a little ashamed when a Sex and the City quote popped into my head today. Isn't quoting television shows a pre-teen pastime? But Mr. Big's voice projected into my brain today.

There was an episode where Big breaks up with his famous girlfriend and drives out to see Carrie at Aidan's country cabin. After getting in a muddy fistfight and being called "middle aged" by an incredulous Carrie, Big and Aidan bond just a little bit.

Big complains to Aidan about how hard it is to communicate with his celebrity girlfriend. He says something like, "You see, she can always get me, but I can't reach her." He says it over and over.

Boy, do I understand.

In the past few days I've missed my deployed husband's phone calls by mere moments multiple times.

I've come running out of the bathroom to grab up the phone and only hear a disheartening dial tone. So I started carrying my cell phone with me at all times. The next day I fumbled to pull my ringing phone out of my purse only to miss his call by the slightest of margins. So I started carrying my cell phone in my pocket at all times.

This morning while on a field trip with my son, I missed my husband's call yet again because my phone was on silent and it took me a moment to realize it was ringing.

He can always get me, but I can't reach him.

When I miss his call there is no calling him back. I never know if he'll call again in a week, a day, or a minute.

The few times that I have cried during this deployment have been when I miss his calls. I sit for a moment or two staring at the screen on my cell phone telling me I've missed hearing his voice and I feel hopeless.

Yesterday my daughter and I were in my bedroom when my cell phone rang. I ran to grab it off my desk but I had missed yet another call. But this one didn't display one of the strange numbers that appears when my husband calls. This call had come from "Home".

I only had to listen to the voice mail for a second to realize what had happened. I could hear my son's faint voice echoed in my phone, talking to himself.

While us girls were upstairs working on a project, my son had tried to use his new phone dialing skills to call his father.

He came up to my room and asked, 'Can we please call Daddy?" I tried to explain why we couldn't but he didn't really understand. "Please?" he begged.

I guess I'm not the only one dreadfully missing the sound of my husband's voice right now. And I'm not the only one who is frustrated.

He can always get me, but I can't reach him.