They waited up for his call. It was just something they'd always insisted on. "Give us a call when you get there, so we know you're okay" they said. It was as much a family tradition as hiding at least one of the four dozen Easter eggs in the nook of the apple tree. It was always supposed to be the one place nobody would look. Or using raisins for the gingerbread men's eyes at Christmas. Place them at an angle one way and your cookie would look sad. The other way, and it would look angry.
They wouldn't go to bed until the call came. And it always did. They had no reason to believe that this time it wouldn't.
When the phone rang, the connection was very clear considering the distance.
It was traded back and forth to say their "Love yous", and when they were sure he was safe, Mother was last, then Dad hung up the phone. They'd sleep well now, and they knew he would to. Their son was safe, because this final time, the call came from Heaven.
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