California

They came—finally—on the approach to the Bay Bridge. The saline evidence of a soul deep sadness that I have suppressed and longed for all week. This has been a week of goodbyes. A week of goodbyes, following another week of goodbyes on the East Coast. As my colleague and compadre of 12 years bade me an emotional goodbye on Friday, I felt my tears well up and then, mysteriously, they were squelched. I felt robbed. This week has been filled with replayings of that vignette; with a friend I’ve known almost as long as I’ve lived in California, to those who’s child I’ve seen birthed. Each time the tragedy of having to move away from these relationships that we have nurtured in order to pursue a life long dream, filled me to bursting. And yet, tears eluded me. ...

Fifteen years ago today Victoria drove a borrowed truck, with her limited possessions into Brattleboro, Vermont to join me on what would be our first, longest, and most significant adventure together. I can still feel the crisp chill of the pre-winter air as I chatted nervously with one of the local crazies and awaited her arrival. Separated by hundreds of miles, without money or transportation, our relationship had just barely survived what we now know to have been its darkest hour. In the weeks preceding her arrival we had actually split up. Our friends, family, and advisors were in accord that our love was destined for disaster. We knew with unflappable, unassailable conviction that there was something about the other that we needed to explore, to know, and to grow from. This confidence and desire to grow together, it turns out, has been the foundation of our relationship. ...

I wasn’t at home when we were tied into slip A58 in Monterey Harbor. I was homesick. Surprising yes, since I was on my own boat, tied up with my usual dock lines, cooking in my own galley, and sleeping in my own bed. I spent my time in Monterey constantly checking the three forecast areas on NOAA to find our perfect weather window to head north. Again, I was surprised at myself. The trip north is usually hard, wet, and cold. Our boat is in great shape and we could actually (foolishly) cash in Tucker’s retirement accounts and head south for at least a year. I always want to go south, or anywhere warmer than wherever I am. But I wanted to go north, to go home. ...

This is the first chance I’ve had to sit down at my computer in six days. When in the last 15 years have I been able to say that? This vacation was certainly unique. Since it was a last minute (we decided at lunch two days before departing) decision, the expectations were low. Regardless, none of us were prepared for the highs and lows of this last week. On the high side: ...

Our trip is winding to a close. Tomorrow at 5:30 am we will hop in a taxi and with any luck be taken to a train station where we will be whisked away to Cochin. We’ll check our bags at the airport and then spend the day wandering around Cochin. By 8:30pm we will be on a plane to Mumbai and from there it will be only a few hours before we are on our way to California. ...

For the longest time after moving to California, Vick and I were convinced that this was a state (or at least a region) that seriously undervalued community. We were more than a little surprised to find, once Victoria got pregnant, that their was this completely amazing virtual community of parents hidden, Hogwarts style, from our view all that time. Now years after our first child was born, we’re grateful to be surrounded by wonderful and supportive friends (some even without children), and a strong community. So partly as a celebration of that good fortune, and partly to bolster and encourage a stronger sense of community, we’ve started to hold a weekly Coffee Social. ...