Sylvia's Journal

You need to be away from home from time to time to appreciate what you have. I am lucky in that my frequent departures automatically produce frequent homecomings. These are the best moments of all. No matter how often I have done this, I never tire of this final part of my journey: first the landing and the joy of touchdown, then the phone call to Axel while taxiing to our gate; the impatience of going through the immigration line, the seemingly endless wait for my suitcase and then the last obstacle of the agricultural inspection (coming from Amsterdam I always carry food: cheese, sometimes herring and licorice). And then comes the best part of it all: going through the opaque doors of the customs area and stepping out into the arrival hall while scanning the waiting crowd for that one particular face that is so very (VERY) dear to me.

My arrival this time did not quite follow the script. For one, my suitcase came out in the first batch and so I walked out into the arrival hall much earlier than Axel had expected. He was not watching and we missed each other. I walked over to the side, a bit disappointed and puzzled and left several messages on his cell phone. I finally decided to sit on a bench and read my book while waiting for him. When I picked a bench, just a few feet away, I noticed the back of a familiar head of curls – he had been sitting there all along. The reunion was sweet and all was quickly forgiven and forgotten.

I received an update on Axel’s recovery and learned he is adding two new specialists to his care team: he is seeing a physiatrist (fizz-ee-a-trist) by the name of Sara Lee. She is not a cupcake. She is a physician specializing in physical medicine and rehabilitation. Physiatrists focus on restoring function to people after the orthopedes and neurologists have done their work of diagnosing and putting the pieces back together. He is also going to see a hand doctor, which is different from a peripheral neurologist, to give advice on how his left hand can regain its full functionality. It is much better than before, but his hand is swollen as a result of, what we assume, not the right kinds of exercises. We are getting in really specialist territory now.

Sita is rapidly filling up her dance card with trips to London, Dallas, Sharm El Sheikh, New York and Bangkok. So Sita and I will be flitting in and out of the country for the next few months (my trips will take me to Afghanistan and Ethiopia) while our men will stay put, keeping the home fires burning.

The latest update on Tessa and Steve is that they hate living in London (Ont.). The poor things have several more months of winter, cold and snow and this doesn’t help. The contrast between the lively student scene in Amherst and the industrial city of London and living surrounded by agribusiness soy fields is becoming increasingly untenable to them. Tessa has one more year to go and is beginning to wonder whether her sanity can handle this. We old people know of course that one year is nothing; but when you are 22 one year is about 5% of your life and that is a long time.