Sixty Ninth Visit to Taft

Just as I was thinking I couldn't bear another trip to Taft, I got a new car. Now I have hundreds of radio stations, CD's, and my IPod to help pass the time, and I actually look forward to the drive. Funny how things work. The car came just at the right time to get me through the last 12 weeks.

I'm in the process of getting things ready for Ron's return. I'm doing some spring cleaning and throwing out lots of old stuff. When I pick him up in July I will bring clothes for him, but which pair of jeans will fit? 33, 34 or 35? I'm not sure, so I'll bring several. I'm also trying to get the bills and records in order. This has never been my domain. I did my best to learn what to do before Ron left, and I have tried to maintain order. No past due notices tells me I've done an adequate job. Now I am just organizing everything so that Ron can file things the way he likes, and take over the bill paying duties. At least now I know I can take care of the bills if necessary. This is something I should have learned how to do years ago. It's very empowering to realize you're not helpless.

With only 79 days to go, both Ron and I can see the finish line. He thinks about it constantly, even waking up at night and visualizing his homecoming. I think about it too, but differently. I think about what we will do, where we will go and how Ron's business will develop. He thinks only about being home. David came to visit on Friday, and although his visit was brief, it brought a big smile to Ron's face. They talk business, stocks, politics and sports. At times I could see that Ron was not totally focused on the conversation, and when I questioned him about this, he said he has a lot of things pertaining to coming home to think about.

Ron has a new roommate. His name is Izzy. He's originally from Pakistan, so now they have the United Nations in their three man cube. American, Pakistani, and Taiwanese. Jew, Muslim, and Buddhist. What a group. They all get along and I'm sure the combination makes for some interesting talks. As of today there were 553 men at Taft. At one time during Ron's stay there were as little as 503 men. Lots of comings and goings.

There is always gossip at Taft, and although Ron doesn't like to gossip, he tells me some of the stories, but prefaces it all with the statement, "You don't know what to believe." Everyone has a story, and some of them are outlandish. I too, have lots of neighborhood gossip these days. We live on a cul-d-sac with lots of new neighbors, several houses for sale, new twins, and domestic squabbles. Like never before I see neighbors outside talking to each other. It does make life interesting.

I believe that soon Ron and I will have finished this journey and will start the next one. This time, we'll be the captains of the ship rather than having the DOJ and Taft sargents calling the shots. I know I'm going to enjoy our next journey.