I spend an awful lot of time aboard an aircraft. My week will start here in Los Angeles, but when the calendar turns its page three days from now you’ll find me packing the duffle bag I purchased in Sitka, Alaska nearly thirty years ago with my belongings for a weekend in San Francisco to be spent with my bride which aligns well with a recent fortune cookie which read “You will have a happy adventure soon.” ¶ Bonnie and I have been geographically separated now for nine months and after another wonderful and productive weekend in Northern California I find myself looking at the clock more than I should waiting for the afternoon whistle to blow so I can head to the apartment, unpack that duffle bag and throw my head down for a late afternoon-er. ¶ These nine months apart from each other have not been the easiest in the world for either of us, and I am without words to express my thanks for her unwavering independence. An attribute she picked up over the years while I was out to sea. In our twenty-five years with each other we’ve endured nearly a thousand inches of snow, numerous relocations, a devastating house fire, a hotel robbery, the tragic loss of her mother, battled and beat breast cancer and each morning she awakes with the same question she’s asked me since I’ve known her … “what time is it?” ¶ This past Sunday morning my response to that question was “10:00 AM” … her response? “Oh shit!” She had things to do that day, I had things to do as well and as she took her morning shower I could hear her humming which remains music to my ears. We all know the saying “a happy wife is a happy life”, and I’m here to tell you … that’s just what’s going on, geographically separated or not. ¶ Not only did she awake this morning at 3:30 AM to drive me into San Francisco for my early commuter flight back to Los Angeles, and then to return home, take care of a few things, and is now driving even further south of San Francisco into Silicon Valley to take care of her eleven-year old cousin for a week. If there’s one person anyone in this family can count on it’s the one person this blog is focused on; my wife Bonnie. ¶ After my nap this afternoon I’ll ramble down the street and say hello to all the cronies at Hacienda Playa, grab a bite to eat, see if I can talk the bartender into turning on a hockey game, have a few cold beers and heard back up the hill to the apartment for the evening. I’ll rinse and repeat this operation through Thursday night and what will my wife be doing? She’ll be taking care of her niece. Why? Because her cousin needed her to. ¶ People come into our lives in one way or another and as I look at the framed photograph of my wife here in front of my monitor I thank the day she came into mine. She’s truly one special young lady. One I’m fortunate enough to call my bride.
Keeping her close …