*Sniffles warning; may need kleenex*

I need to write this out, so forgive me in advance for sounding more emotional than usual.

Mark called lastnight. He waited in line for nearly an hour at a bank of 40 phones among nearly 5000 others, several in line behind him. Calls were limited to 10 minutes.

I have this horrible habit of thinking I will remember the things that happen when I stop and think “I need to tell him about this”. Then he calls, and my heart sinks, and I can’t remember anything I wanted to tell him. 🙁 I need to do better writing things down as they happen, I feel like I’m being so vague with him saying “everything here is fine, normal, same-o”, and I know that’s not what he needs to hear (and at this point, I don’t know what he needs from me).

So during our conversation we talked about the sandstorms, how their sunglasses are “sealed” to their faces to keep sand out, and when they shower there’s sand in places you never thought existed. During a “normal” sandstorm, he said he can see 10-15 feet in front of him and that’s about it. So the sniffles were explained away as sinus problems from the wind and sand.

He gave me the address he will have in a couple of weeks so that I can start putting together mail and packages. If any of you want his address, please e-mail me and I will give it to you.

I asked him what kinds of things he wants or needs, and all he said he really wanted are books. The guys pass them around and it keeps their minds busy. I thought about picking up some college course type books for them so they can learn about stuff, too. Other than that, he said “the usual”, including snack packs, brownies and the normal homey type things I sent last time he was there.

Last time, I wrote usually 2 letters a day to him. I purchased a case of pre-stamped envelopes from the post office and bought a couple of rubber stamp kits and hand numbered all of the envelopes. This way when he received several at a time, he could put them in order and then read them. I sent over 300 letters to him during that tour. Lastnight I wrote my first letter in a long time.

Our conversation ended just past 10pm my time, and I wrote until after 11. I ended up with 7 pages written by candlelight, and my hand is sore today. I will have to get back in the groove with using my hand for more than painting and typing.

My heart broke for him when we were saying goodbye on the phone. I knew something was on his mind, but he didn’t share. Maybe because of the guys standing in line behind him. But the end of the phone call made me feel so terribly helpless, I can’t reach out to him, I can’t call him back, and I can’t get on a plane to go comfort him. All I can do is hope that he knows how I feel, and hope he’s able to call me again soon so I know he’s ok.

I’ve known him since 1989. 15 years. Up until a few years ago, he was the love of my life, but not until recently when we remarried (2001) was it clear to me that he’s not just the love of my life, he is absolutely my soul mate. When we’re together, we don’t even need to talk. It is never uncomfortable, it is always right. We have such a peaceful relationship that is so filled with love and devotion, more now than ever before. I’ve watched him grow into such a beautiful and strong man, a loving father, a kind, compassionate soul. When I hear his voice it’s like my heart has been jumpstarted. I miss his physical presence with us, and at the same time I feel him with me every moment of the day. If you had asked me 15 years ago if I knew what love was, I would have said yes – but my understanding of it then is nothing compared to now. Now, when I say or think about how much I love my husband, I feel an overwhelming sense of him in my soul, occupying every hidden space in my mind and heart. It’s nearly impossible to explain it’s so huge. Bigger than I ever knew it could be.

I thank God for Mark, for our bond, for the opportunity to experience this feeling that I will hold like the precious gift that it is, for the rest of my life.