It had been two weeks since the last telephone call with my husband, and I was starting to get antsy. Even though I knew he was fine -- he finally emailed and explained that the phones had been on the fritz -- I just desperately wanted to hear his voice. I traveled to visit his parents for the week, and we were certain he'd call sometime while I was visiting so he could talk to everyone. But no call came.
As I was waiting for my plane, I held my phone in my hand. I just wanted it to ring so badly. I boarded the 9:30 flight and finally shut off the phone.
When I landed, there was a voicemail from my husband. Left at 9:28.
And the stupid thing was that I got mad at him over it.
I walked through the airport fuming. How could this have happened? How did I wait two weeks for a call that came the ONE time I couldn't have the phone on? Didn't he know I was heading home that day? Why couldn't he have called ten minutes earlier? Why couldn't he call back two hours later? What was wrong with him?
I know it's not his fault. I know he had no way of knowing what time my flight was. I know he often loses track of what day it is, since he works so hard with no days off. I know he also constantly gets confused about the time zone difference, since he apparently works on zulu time. I know he didn't call while I was on a plane on purpose. I know this. I know it's not his fault.
But for some reason, I wanted it to be his fault.
I get like this at times during deployment, where I'm just tired of being on the homefront. I'm tired of keeping track of how many days it's been since we last talked and then hearing him say, "Really? Has it been that long?" I'm tired of one-sided conversations and emails that go unanswered and stories that go untold. I'm tired of feeling like if I miss a call, it's my fault for not being available.
And for some reason, I wanted to take that all out on him when he called at the wrong time.
Luckily I couldn't, because I don't have the opportunity to pick up the phone and gripe at him!
Instead, I called AWTM and told her I was grouchy for such a dumb reason. She seemed to get it, and I asked her to talk about her life and take my mind off my irritation for a while. And the feeling passed, and when my husband finally called back this afternoon, I was over it and was just happy to hear his voice. And rolled my eyes when he said, "Really? Has it been two weeks?"
But I truly hate that feeling, when I miss a call and I somehow want him to magically know that he's screwed up and ruined my day.
It's not his fault. It's nobody's fault. And that's why I have such a hard time with it.