“When someone prizes us just as we are, he or she confirms our existence”. There I was, just lying in bed reading my book. I was so tired that I was considering going to sleep. As I turned the reading light off. I borrowed into the sheets to get comfortable and without even knowing I closed my eyes. As I was falling asleep, the phone suddenly rang. I considered leaving it to ring out, but the noise it made was so deafening. I picked up the phone and with I harsh tone said “who is it? ” there was a silence that frustrated me. I repeated myself “who is it? ” In a very silent voice “it’s me”, I couldn’t quite make out who it was. Listening intently I heard “it’s me, John”. Everything froze; it was as if the world had stopped. I wanted to say something but the words would not come out. I panicked and hung up the phone. Creeping back underneath the sheets, I told myself that it was just a joke. I tried to go to sleep but I was too consumed in my own thoughts for sleep. As the sun rose the next morning, I was still so puzzled about the events of last night, I just couldn’t understand. John had been gone for eight years, killed in an avalanche, or so I had been told. As I was getting ready to work the phone rang.
The thought of even picking it up frightened me. I planned on leaving it this time, but it just kept ringing. In my attempt to stop this I accidentally answered. It was a police officer asking me to come down to the station, no information on what it was about, just specific instructions to come as soon as possible. As I pulled up to the station I had a strange feeling. When I walked in there was a man waiting for me, “Mrs. Abraham? ” he said. I nodded my head, “come with me please”. We walked to a room where I sat down. “My name is Sergeant Walker”, he went on to explain that John was alive and that he would be returning home. I couldn’t fathom the words coming out of his mouth as I had been thinking that my husband had been dead for the past eight years. Shocked at what had just been said, I had to leave. I drove straight home and stayed there for the rest of the day. The next morning I got up and started to get ready to meet John at the airport. Everything I tried on looked no good or so I thought, maybe I was just overreacting. Sitting at the airport anxiously, I kept practicing what I would say to him when I saw him for the first time. “Hello John, how are you? Frustrated at the stupidity of this I started looking around for John, wondering if he would even recognize me. As impatient as I was I decided to get up and get a drink, as I turned around there he was. My heart began to beat so fast; I thought it was going to fall out of my chest. I just stood there, incapable of moving or speaking. Struggling to find the words to say anything John moved toward me and embraced me. I had forgotten what it was like after eight years to hold someone that you love so much. I never wanted to let go. He took a step away from me, “Hello”, he said. I couldn’t help but smile “Hi”. It was as if nothing had changed.