David geeking out at the Apple Store at King of Prussia, PA. I was randomly searching for a photo that would go with this post, and picked this one. Then I looked at the date on the photo: March 19, 2005. I took this photo two years ago, to the day. How bizarre.

* * * * * *

On Saturday night/early Sunday morning I found myself reading through my old email, messages that David and I exchanged while I was living in both Vancouver and Scranton. I kept reading until five o’clock in the morning, alternately laughing and crying at the things he wrote until I made myself stop and sleep so I could be coherent at brunch.

I really miss David’s sense of humour. This is an email he sent to me before our Summer 2005 rendez-vous in Toronto, a meeting place where he could drive to and I wouldn’t get in trouble with U.S. Immigration while waiting for my fiancee visa. The original plan was for David to fly the Tri-Pacer up (he even obtained the Canadian Customs sticker), but in the end he had to drive because it was July 1 — Canada Day — and Toronto City Centre Airport’s customs office closed early.

From: David Fielding
Date: June 29, 2005 3:08:55 PM EDT (CA)
To: Gail Edwin
Subject: It pays to shop around…

There are two places to park planes at City Centre airport; the “nice” FBO, City Centre Aviation Ltd., wants $35 CDN per night for parking. The Esso Aviation place only asks $20/night, and they waive the first night.

The Esso guy said that they are on the “rough-looking” part of the airport; I told him I would be right at home.

The girl at CCA said I have a “Pennsylvania accent”!

“Well,” I thought, “yaz* ain’t gettin’ my business…”

* See third bullet point at ‘Lexical Characteristics’.
Stumbled across this, too, which is hilarious if you’re familiar with the area.

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Click on the picture for the answer. Thanks to blynaffit for letting me use her picture.

See also David’s description of his city from the Flickr group “Praise and Curse of the City” two years ago:

I love that my immigrant grandparents made a life here, and my memories of their house across from the park and the museum, and hearing my grandmother’s Yiddish as a child. I love the railroad tracks and the boarded-up coal mines and the slag heaps. I love the careless accents and the affability of my neighbors’ voices. I love that there are soaring cities to the east, and endless forests to the west. I love that we still have our original chrome diners and our wonderfully awful newspaper, and one remaining human elevator operator. I love that Harry Chapin sang a silly song* about our town.

I hate that so much was lost when our city fell ill, around the time that I was born, and the youth and optimism that bled away over the years. (I love that health is returning, though.) Sometimes I hate that my city isn’t quite big enough, so that foreign films and foods and people don’t find their way here. I hate that the nearby farms are turning into housing developments, gated communities full of New Yorkers, wealthy and imprisoned. I hate the inept, corrupt and – worst of all – unimaginative public officials.

I love and hate the idea of leaving it, someday. I am Scranton.

*30,000 Pounds of Bananas.

Technorati tags: Scranton, Flickr, Harry Chapin

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Things suddenly got very busy at the House of Fielding, so I’m posting one of David’s photos from his collection of Personal Favourites. (Ahem, that would be Favorites.)

Because Toronto’s starting to feel winterish, although I haven’t seen snow yet! I think Vancouver and Toronto have swapped winters this year.

This photo was taken on a very memorable weekend in New York City, almost two years ago. David’s post is here:

Dave’s Logbook – January 30, 2005: Reunited

It was the weekend that I closed my apartment on Beach Avenue, officially closing a chapter of my life — almost a decade in Vancouver. David met me at JFK again, opening a new chapter in Scranton, Pennsylvania.

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I am…

SpongeBob Squarepants?

I’m puzzled because I haven’t seen the cartoon. But I guess if my image were made into a gigantic inflatable and floated over thousands upon thousands of people, it must not be all that bad.

Incidentally, I took this photo almost one year ago, at the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade last year in New York City (natch). Sadly, I lost all my videoclips from the parade! Including the one of Dora the Explorer, which I took especially for Miss Madeleine. Oh well… on with the show…

… and HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO THE NEIGHBO(U)RS SOUTH OF THE BORDER. Gorge yourselves silly with the turkey and tofu and gravy or whatever floats your potatoes.

After two years of David’s superb maple brine turkey, I have to say his spoiled me for all others. *sniff* Here’s his recipe, by the way.

Everyone has a personality of a cartoon character. Have you ever asked yourself what cartoon character do you most resemble?

A group of investigators got together and analyzed the personalities of well known and modern cartoon characters. The information that was gathered was made into this test.

Answer all the questions with what describes you best, add up all your points (which are next to the answer that you choose) at the end and look for your results.

1. Which one of the following describes the perfect date?
a) Candlelight dinner (4 pts.)
B) Fun/Theme Park (2 pts.)
C) Painting in the park (5 pts.)
D) Rock concert (1 pt.)
E) Going to the movies (3 pts.)

2. What is your favorite type of music?
A) Rock and Roll (2 pts.)
B) Alternative (1 pt.)
C) Soft Rock (4 pts.)
D) Country (5 pts.)
E) Pop (3 pts.)

[eh, where's jazz?]

3. What type of movies do you prefer?
A) Comedy (2 pts.)
B) Horror (1 pt.)
C) Musical (3 pts.)
D) Romance (4 pts.)
E) Documentary (5 pts.)

4. Which one of these occupations would you choose if you only could choose one of these?
A) Waiter (4 pts.)
B) Professional Sports Player (5 pts.)
C) Teacher (3 pts.)
D) Police (2 pts.)
E) Cashier (1 pt.)

5. What do you do with your spare time?
A) Exercise (5 pts.)
B) Read (4 pts.)
C) Watch television (2 pts.)
D) Listen to music (1 pt.)
E) Sleep (3 pts.)

6. Which one of the following colors do you like best?
A) Yellow (1 pt.)
B) White (5 pts.)
C) Sky Blue (3 pts.)
D) Dark Blue (2 pts.)
E) Red (4 pts.)

[two shades of blue?]

7. What do you prefer to eat?
A) Snow (3 pts.)
B) Pizza (2 pts)
C) Sushi (1 pt.)
D) Pasta (4 pts.)
E) Salad (5 pts.)

8. What is your favorite holiday?
A) Halloween (1 pt.)
B) Christmas (3 pts.)
C) New Year (2 pts.)
D) Valentine’s Day (4 pts.)
E) Thanksgiving (5 pts.)

9. If you could go to one of these places which one would it be?
A) Paris (4 pts.)
B) Spain (5 pts.)
C) Las Vegas (1 pt.)
D) Hawaii (4 pts.)
E) Hollywood (3 pts.)

[Only one is a country?]

10. With which of the following would you prefer to spend time with?
A) Someone Smart (5 pts.)
B) Someone attractive (2 pts.)
C) Someone who likes to Party (1 pt.)
D) Someone who always has fun (3 pts.)
E) Someone very sentimental (4 pts.)

Now add up your points and see who your cartoon character personality is…

(10-16 points) You are Garfield :
You are very comfortable, easy going, and you definitely know how to have fun but sometimes you take it to an extreme. You always know what you are doing and you are always in control of your life. Others may not see things as you do, but that doesn’t mean that you always have to do what is right. Try to remember, your happy spirit may hurt you or others.

(17-23 points) You are Snoopy:
You are fun, you are very cool and popular. You always know what’s in and you are never are out of style. You are good at knowing how to satisfy everyone else. You have probably disappeared for a few days more than once but you always come home with the family values that you learned. Being married and having children are important to you, but only after you have had your share of fun times.

(24-28 points) You are Elmo:
You have lots of friends and you are also popular, always willing to give advice and help out a person in need. You are very optimistic and you always see the bright side of things. Some good advice: try not to be too much of a dreamer. Dreaming too big could cause many conflicts in your life.

(29-35 points) You are Sponge Bob Square Pants:
You are the classic person that everyone loves. You are the best friend that anyone could ever have and never wants to lose. You never cause harm to anyone and they would never not understand your feelings. Life is a journey, it’s funny and calm for the most part. Stay away from traitors and jealous people, and you will be stress free.

(36-43 points) You are Charlie Brown:
You are tender, you fall in love quickly but you are also very serious about all relationships. You are a family person. You call your Mom every Sunday. You have many friends and may occasionally forget a few Birthdays. Don’t let your passion confuse you with reality.

(44-50 points) You are Dexter:
You are smart and definitely a thinker… Every situation is fronted with a plan. You have a brilliant mind. You demonstrate very strong family principles. You maintain a stable routine but never ignore a bad situation when it comes. Try to do less over thinking every once in a while to spice things up a bit with spontaneity!

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Dave’s Logbook: OK, back to the fun!

He wrote about St. Tikhon’s Orthodox Monastery, founded in 1905, but I wanted to share a video I shot of the bellringers and the ethereal sounds that surrounded us while we were on the grounds. The volume of the bells took us by surprise, but once we realised where they were, we were struck by the quality of the ringing, the echoes that reverberated through the countryside air. I filmed in a circle, to try and capture some of it.

At the end of the clip is the familiar sight of David with his bright orange 207 CAP hat. Even when it was worn and faded, he still loved to wear it.

I was fascinated by the monks and wanted to photograph the movement of the robes as they walked, but I was too shy to ask if I could take their picture. I tried following one at a distance, but he was too quick for my lens. Maybe I can find a local monastery and do a shoot there.

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Until Gigi’s Papa arrived home this evening and told me about it, I had no idea why my website was getting so many hits with the keywords “VFR corridor” and “New York VFR corridor” and “Hudson River VFR corridor”. He turned on the TV and showed me the footage of the residential building in flames, and informed me that the plane belonged to a Yankees pitcher.

It seems one result of the incident is a renewed interest in the existence of the VFR corridor around New York City, a tunnel of airspace where small aircraft can fly over the Hudson River and part of the East River, affording the best views to be had of Manhattan. I’ve been fortunate enough to have flown this route with David twice — during the day in February last year, and two months later at night, in April.

Dave’s Logbook: Monday, February 07, 2005

Gail and Dave Take Manhattan (Again) (From the Air)

Photoset here.

Dave’s Logbook: Monday, April 11, 2005

Firefly, in a City of Lights

David’s photo set: Manhattan by night

This latest aviation tragedy happens to follow my weekend of flying in small aircraft once again, and a renewed desire to obtain a pilot’s license and one day fly myself through the VFR corridor. I can only hope once the time comes when I’ve got the knowledge and training to take this on, the corridor will remain open for GA aircraft and those of us who wish to experience the thrill of flying this airspace. I’ve read some political rumblings suggesting that the VFR corridors pose a security risk, and it would be a shame if the rumblings escalated to a total GA ban such as there is in the airspace around Washington, DC.

In other aviation-related news, check out some interior pics of the monstrous Airbus 380, the world’s largest passenger aircraft.

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May 1, 2005

David and I climb bumpily to our record altitude of 11,600 feet in the Tri-Pacer. This was the only time I ever sat in the back and was it ever turbulent! The winds were fierce!

May 1, 2005: Up, Up, and Away

A few days later, David reluctantly put me on a plane in Philadelphia bound for Seattle. I was already past my 90-day limit for the United States and I had to return to Vancouver to wait for my fiancee visa. I’m glad we were able to take this flight, because we didn’t have an opportunity for another one like it since.

When I was looking through David’s archives for his account of that day (there isn’t one), I found this entry that he wrote a week later, of flying in windy conditions. It was an orientation flight with a cadet in the Civil Air Patrol’s Cessna, a trip that Justin probably still remembers.

Dave’s Logbook – May 9, 2005: The Wicked Wind

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Photos from the trip to Philadelphia, PA / Camden, NJ being uploaded slowly but surely. The photoset thus far:

Philly Visit – Sep 14-16

There were a couple of things I wanted to do while I was down in Philadelphia, and one of them was to visit the Italian Market where David took some of his shots when he flew down for the only Flickr meetup he was able to attend.

Philly Meetup – Jun 22, 2005

Dave’s Logbook: Philly Flickr Meetup

I remember distinctly the phone conversation we had that night. I was at a Vancouver Flickr Meetup the same night at Trout Lake to watch firespinning, and I sat off to the side of the field listening to David’s excited chatter about how he flew down in the Tri-Pacer and took Gregory for a spin over his neighbourhood (and discovered from the aerial shots that his neighbours had a pool!).

I was so pleased to hear David’s animated voice, telling me how great the other Flickr people were and how much fun he was having. In hindsight perhaps this was already the cancer taking hold of his body, but I knew he’d been feeling tired and later he said he was reluctant to tell me how fatigued he was, day after day. We hadn’t seen each other in more than three weeks since David returned to Scranton from Vancouver after his birthday weekend, and although we were in touch by phone and email on a daily basis, we were unhappy to be apart in order to satisfy visa requirements. I was hoping David would take more opportunities to join the Philly Flickr people on social outings, to take time off from his commitments and be a part of the photography community the way I was involved with Vandigicam. David’s first Philly Flickr meetup sounded encouraging to me; he needed to have more fun to regain some balance between work and play.

Addie kindly took me to the Italian Market where she and Seuss and the others walked with David more than a year ago. I found the sign I was looking for, a simple neon outline of a pig, a shot that David took at night and one that I’d commented on. I don’t know why that one stuck in my brain, but I was bent on finding it. I remember David telling me that he wanted to take me to the Italian Market the next time we were in Philadelphia, and I can see why — not just for photographs, but for the market atmosphere that we both enjoyed. When Addie found the Fiorella’s storefront, I felt like I’d completed a mission.

Someone asked me recently which of the three cameras (and one cameraphone) I lug around is my favourite. I have my 4 megapixel Canon PowerShot A80 — which is starting to come apart at the seams now, more than 20,000 images and 2 years later — plus David’s 2 megapixel Panasonic Lumix DMC-FZ1 (about 3 years old), and last summer he dug out his old Pentax K-1000 SLR for me that he bought years ago to replace his K-1000 from college. All three cameras have strengths and weaknesses that differ according to shooting conditions, so I take them all with me and pull out whichever one is most suited for light and range. Sometimes I shoot with all three and see what turns out.

I used to say in my Flickr profile that I’d like to buy a prosumer DSLR by the end of 2006, but I don’t feel that way anymore. Now I’m working through my photo archives and teaching myself how to improve the ones I’ve taken using Photoshop, and I resolve not to get a DSLR until I’m more proficient with post-processing. Early last year David started teaching me how to use Photoshop, but I can’t say I was a very good student. He was so far ahead of me that my usual method of learning by observation just made me confused because he’d whip through everything so quickly — after all, David worked with Adobe Creative Suite every day. Socar taught me a bit more in the summertime, but I spent more time shooting than processing. When David was in treatment, I would experiment on my own and ask his opinion when he was well enough to give one and show me the ropes.

My favourite cameras, the ones I like to shoot with the most, are David’s. For sentimental reasons. The whole metaphor of photography and sight is very apt, to me, for it was my travel photos that first caught David’s eye in the spring of 2004. He wrote this testimonial in my Flickr profile:

AviatorDave says:
“Gail has a wonderful, natural eye and a voracious appetite for learning and exploring. Her photography is an expression of this; she has a gift for seeing the adventure and essence in life.

Plus, she’s been everywhere! It was her travel pictures that first moved me to write to her.

I always love seeing the world through Gail’s eyes. It’s one of the many joys of being with her.”

My testimonial for David in his Flickr profile:

gail on the web says:
“David deserves credit on all my photography after October 1, 2004. Without him I’d have no aerial photos aside from commercial airlines, no “Hugh the cat” photos, no East Coast photos outside of Manhattan, and I’d be much less inspired to learn Adobe Photoshop… I’d be much less inspired, full-stop.

There’s been a paradigm shift in my photography, as there’s been a paradigm shift in my life, and I owe that — and so much more — to him.”

Using David’s old Pentax K-1000 rekindled my love for film. It’s a fully manual camera, the same way the Tri-Pacer is a fully manual plane — if you don’t do anything to control it, it simply doesn’t work. There’s no auto-anything. You must have some idea, some knowledge of the equipment before it will perform for you. But once you’ve learned its idiosyncrasies and what it can do, the sky’s the limit.

I like to think that when I look at the world through the lenses of David’s cameras he can metaphorically “see” what I see. I can share my experiences with him, and we can take part in something together.

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There’s a story David told me early on, before we’d actually met, about a turning point in his life. It was after a thunderstorm he experienced while flying to Ohio in 2001, a storm so intense he worried he might not make it through. David told the story to a few people, but I managed to find one instance where he’d written it down, in an e-mail, in June 2004.

I was flying from my home ‘port in the Poconos to Cincinnati, Ohio for a conference. I was going to receive an award I had been given, for education. Two other pilots were going to go with me, but they cancelled the morning of the trip. I decided to go anyway, even though it would mean flying alone in instrument weather, which is a heavier workload. I was flying a Civil Air Patrol Cessna 172, a little four-seat plane about the size and weight of a Volkswagen.

Across Pennsylvania as far as Pittsburgh was all grey clouds and light rain, I never once saw the ground after taking off. As I crossed into Ohio the clouds began to get darker, and the rain fell harder. The Cleveland center controller gave me some headings to steer to keep me out of the worst of the rain and lightning.

Fairly quickly the clouds went to a deep grey, and the rain even more intense. The windscreen was totally obsured by water, like being in a carwash, and the sound of the rain was like sizzling bacon – louder than the engine. The turbulence was so bad that the simple autopilot couldn’t keep me level, so I clicked it off and hand-flew the plane, trying to stay upright. I was thrown up and down hundreds of feet; the engine howled and sighed, as my airspeed went wildly up and down.

My hands still shake a little, thinking of this. The cockpit was near-dark, except for flashes of lightning; I had no outside reference at all, and the needles on all the gauges were leaping wildly around. The sizzling-bacon sound drowned everything out; I don’t remember hearing anything on the radio. I saw bits of ice in the torrent on the windshield. I waited for larger hail to collapse the plexiglass, or a downburst to carry me down to the ground.

But then it all began to ebb; and in a few moments more I shot out of the clouds into clear blue sky, on top of the familiar white quilt of cloud. I righted the plane, and out of curiosity I circled around to the left to see what I had emerged from.

It was a thunderstorm cloud, growing like a pillar out of the overcast it was embedded in. I was at 8,000 feet or so, and it went up to at least 35,000; seven miles or so. I felt like a fly buzzing around the ankle of a giant. Another pillar was a few miles on my left, I had apparently just skimmed the edge of this one. I flew on for another 45 minutes and landed at Blue Ash airport near Cincy, where the sun was drying out the pavement. On getting out, I saw aluminum showing through the front of the white wings; the rain and ice had blasted much of the paint off.

That was three years ago. It was an epiphany for me. I had been dealing with depression over my recent divorce; I was somewhat surprised by how amazing I felt that afternoon; I was really glad I hadn’t been killed, and somehow a lot of my troubles were washed away in that storm and never came back. Soon after I got back home, I sold the farmhouse where my ex and I had lived, and started living healthier and happier in many small ways.

There are a number of things I’ve taken away from this story, knowing David the way I do and reflecting upon the many conversations we’ve had about life. I’m sharing it for the same reason why I share a bit of my life here: that maybe you’ll take away something of your own from it, too.

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Last night I read a very touching comment from Shari. It was the impetus to write about how a person as jaded as Yours Truly would come to extoll the virtues of love.

For a while now, I’d been meaning to write something here that elaborated on what I had said at the memorial — that despite everything that’s happened, I would do it all over again. Meeting David changed my life for the better, and that is something I must never forget. He was a very loving husband and, after many years of adamantly saying I wouldn’t have children, convinced me otherwise. David was the romantic one between us; he softened my hard edges, reaching past my cynicism and willfully poor attitude about marriage to build a level of trust that no one else had achieved before. How could I not marry this man?

At the memorial, I told a condensed version of how David and I met. It was in an online forum, a crazy community of folk ranging from quiet observers to the most outspoken netizens. David and I were somewhere in-between.

David and I officially met — in “meatspace” as some call it — at JFK Airport on October 1, 2004. I arranged it. David said later it would’ve taken him 10 years to work up the courage to meet me in Vancouver, so it’s a good thing I didn’t have the patience to wait that long. After reading his words for months, I had a sense of what kind of person he was and wanted to meet him.

We’d had a few phone conversations, but the three-hour time difference made phone calls generally inconvenient. The first was out of the blue, in late June, shortly after my birthday. David told me later that he’d had a couple of beers first. Not quite drunk dialling, but later he divulged that he was in need of some “liquid courage”. That random phone call took me by surprise, and at first I found him sort of… gruff. Friendly, but a little tentative. But in short order we were laughing raucously over the silliest things, like me opening up a “Raconteurism Centre”, where people could wander in and tell stories. Then we were giggling breathlessly over “faxing Chinese people” and — well, you had to be there.

David virtually disappeared for part of the summer, swamped with work and Civil Air Patrol activities. After the summer was over, I proposed the idea of meeting. I wanted to indulge my curiosity. I sent David a message on Multiply.

Sep 1, ’04 5:07 PM ET

Hey Dave,

Are you going to be around the weekend of October 15-17, or the following weekend (22-24)?

Gail

av8r wrote on Sep 1, ’04

Hey Gail,

Saturday, October 23rd I will be flying all day for aircrew training. (I’ll be home by early evening – but tired! We start at daybreak.) I don’t see anything else on the arid plain that is my datebook.

Around where? Vancouver? My keyboard? Don’t tell me you’ll be in Scranton on business…

;^)

Dave

gailontheweb wrote on Sep 2, ’04

Dave,

I hear Scranton’s got this old site of an overturned dumptruck* that might be worth shooting for “Overturned Dumptrucks Worldwide” magazine.

So, the 15-17th will find you puttering around your corner of this continent? Does that make you IN-continent, then?

I warned you on my blogspot guestmap that I could come visit you at any time. Are you scared now?

Gail

av8r wrote on Sep 2, ’04

IN-continent? What a crappy pun. ;^)

Scared? Heck, no – that gives me six weeks to clean house, which should be just enough time. But surely you’re not squandering frequent-flyer miles for lil’ old me – right? Let me know what you have in mind, I’d love to meet you; in Scranton if you like, but there’s plenty of more interesting places in the Northeast. I’m within two hours of New York and Philadelphia, and five hours of Boston and Washington.

(Actually, there’s one thing I’m scared of – that you’ll expect me to rattle off everything in Limerick form…)

;^)

Dave

gailontheweb wrote on Sep 2, ’04

Dave,

I can get non-stop flights to New York, but not for Boston or Philly (last I checked)… NYC would be the easiest, and it’s my favourite domestic flight (Cathay Pacific — originates in Hong Kong, good food, always early or on time… where was I?) but does that mean I don’t get to meet Hugh or that giant propeller on your wall??

A
A
B
B
A

Gail

P.S. I will try and phone you later — today is pure chaos…

av8r wrote on Sep 2, ’04

New York is cool, I can drive or fly into the city to meet you. If you want to leave the most interesting city in the world, and visit one of the least – I can arrange that.

Sorry to hear about your day. I’ll be home later, lying on the floor, full of painkillers**.

Maybe I’ll take something for my back, too. *rimshot*

Dave

Little did I know at the time just how nervous David was about meeting me. He got to the airport early and wrote this journal entry, which wasn’t posted because he didn’t finish it.

I fretted much of the day over which route to take to Kennedy airport;
I hadn’t been there in decades. I left work early with my stack of
printouts from Mapquest and went home, fed the cat and gave a last few
touches to my two days of hasty housecleaning.

Something unusual was happening. A girl was coming to see me, from
Vancouver; a girl I had been conversing with online. I had initially
been touched by her travel stories, and wonderful photos; amazingly
well-travelled, she had been to many of the places I have “always
wanted” to go. And her photos all seemed to be exactly the scenes and
places that I would have chosen; between that and her writing, we
seemed to have many parallels.

I set out far too early, to ensure that I wouldn’t get caught in the
Friday afternoon traffic around New York. I arrived at JFK two hours
early; I could have left my car at the George Washington bridge and
walked! But I picked up a bottle of water and some chips and sat in the
back of my car, eager and nervous, in a way I hadn’t been in a long
time. Full of hope: She was so interesting and creative – and
attractive –online, and I felt that I could be a good host for three
days. And yet, full of doubt: Why would such a winning woman come all
this way to see me? How could she not be disappointed? Dreadful, but
that’s what divorce and long solitude had done to me, I suppose.

With 25 minutes to go, I went back to the terminal. Halfway there, I
ran back to the car to get a tin of Altoids for my breath; details,
details! I went over myself like a checklist. I drifted from monitor to
monitor, watching her Cathay Pacific flight move up the board. I let
myself people-watch, as I always do; airline terminals are a feast for
such things.

A British Airways flight arrived, and I watched for reunions; there, a
couple that’s been married for a while, or else a short trip; just a
tired peck on the cheek. Two grandmothers in short order, always a good
welcome for grandmothers, and I quietly drank it in from across the
room. A young Asian woman in long black boots and miniskirt, dressed
for a man – but the man isn’t here. She stands by her bags with a
cellphone, frowning slightly but apparently unconcerned. Eventually he
arrives, a tall expensively-dressed Westerner – in a limo. My gosh, but
I’m a provincial.

Gail’s flight is late. It lands a few minutes after its schedule, but
the trip across the vast taxiways takes much longer. I and the other
greeters and the many limo drivers wait and wait, but the doors don’t
open. Now I have a problem, my allergies are acting up and I need a
tissue; the restrooms are twenty paces away and I make for them.

Back at the gate two minutes later – and the doors are open, and
travelers are arriving…

All things considered, I can’t imagine David and I meeting any other way. He didn’t travel much out of the region, and I was living at the other end of the continent at the time. I couldn’t imagine how our paths might’ve crossed if either of us hadn’t been invited to join the online communities. Life is FULL of odds. Some in our favour, some painfully not so.

I’ll close this entry with a poem David sent to me on October 23, 2004, several weeks after we’d met and decided to make it official. I think it expresses today’s sentiment better than anything I can come up with right now.

I count no more my wasted tears;
They left no echo of their fall;
I mourn no more my lonesome years;
This blessed hour atones for all.
I fear not all that Time or Fate
May bring to burden heart or brow,
Strong in the love that came so late,
Our souls shall keep it always now!

from “At Last” by Elizabeth Akers Allen

* reference to a Harry Chapin song called “30,000 Pounds of Bananas”

** David suffered a back injury in late August, trying to lift his garage door after it came unhinged. Lesson: never try and lift a 400-lb garage door.

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