That look just strikes me as so perfect, because he is at his best when he actively has his mind engaged on a problem.  This particular problem, Nov 2008, happened to be a word search puzzle at an Applebee's, but I still find him incredibly sexy. 

 

Joel had been in New Jersey for 2 days last week when I received the call that he would not be flying home that night due to a canceled flight.  After several attempts to try and get on a later flight, he went on standby and booked a nearby hotel.  At 5 a.m., I received a text message from him stating that he had successfully boarded.  Later that morning, I was sitting in my office reviewing my lecture before my class when I received an e-mail from Joel’s mom.  “There was a plane crash from a plane leaving from Newark New Jersey to Buffalo New York.  Where was Joel going in New Jersey and have you heard from him?”  My stomach did flips as a significant portion of the blood drained from my face.  I thought rationally for a moment and realized that his standby flight would probably not have transferred from NJ to Buffalo, though I was still filled with dread.  I quickly checked my cell phone and realized I had a text message.  “Landed,” it said, and my heart raced back to life.  I quickly e-mailed his mom back and let her know that he had landed and was driving back now.  Then, with my eye on the clock, opened up the CNN.com window and scanned the story.  I realized that a key piece of information that his mom had left out was that the crash had happened at 10:20 p.m. the night before – not that morning.
I jokingly told my class what had happened, and explained the stress response (which is what I happened to be lecturing about that day).  Afterward I wandered around aimlessly in the department, awaiting his return.  He had a 2 hour drive from the airport, but I was just too anxious.  I decided to go home to meet him.  I called before I left and he said he was changing clothes.  I told him, “Perfect.  Stay right there.”  I drove home quickly, entered the house, and when I saw him, hugged him fiercely and breathed him in.  I didn’t let go for several precious minutes.  That little incident made it concrete just how dear he is to me, how I couldn’t bear to lose him.  How every moment that we have with our loved ones could be our last.
I thought back to what we did the afternoon before he left.  I was stretched on the bed, watching him pack, giving little suggestions here and there.  He finished packing, knelt by the side of the bed, took his glasses off and rested his head on my belly.  I softly stroked his hair and his face, and I remember thinking at the time just how in love I was with him, at how I love when these moments feel like a very long time: the afternoon sunlight streaming in, the weight of his head on me, the soft sound of his breathing.  That moment would have been the last meaningful one that we shared together had he boarded a different plane.  And I think that if it were our last moment spent with one another, it would be a perfect characterization of our relationship:  quietly supportive, tender, and most decidedly together.

 

This is a photo to complement my post the other day about Cosette at the winery. 

 

Taken August 2007.

 

The other day Joel was gone on a faculty interview to NJ, so I was in charge of little guy that afternoon.  I cut out early from work and went to pick him up from school.  He was ecstatic to see me when I picked him up from school.  He took me by the hand and showed me his drawing from that day, and the teacher helped me understand what the story had said and how his drawing corresponded to it.
We then climbed in the car, buckled up, and began a conversation.  LG loves to make elaborate plans for the day, so I asked him what he wanted to do.  He was mostly excited about a Scholastic book event rather than anything he wanted to do that afternoon.  So, I tried to encourage by saying playfully, "Well, I thought we'd go to the park, and playyyyyy, and then go home and play with your Transformers, and play, and play and play and play, and playyyyyy, and playyyyyy and playyyyy..." and I was right in the middle of a "play," when he loudly exclaimed, "OKAY!  I get it."
It was all I could do to stifle a laugh.  I was being annoying because I thought he wasn't listening, but it turns out, he totally was. 

 

Photo courtesy of: www.sandlakelabradors.com/ (Not my breeders, just a cute pic).

So, for my Happy Valentine's weekend, I am doing the following activities:

1 - thanking my lucky stars that Joel was NOT on the Newark to NY flight (upcoming post)
2 - 'renewing' my kitchen:  new wall paint, new cabinet paint, new hardware, new light fixture (pictures soon, upon completion)
3 - hitting a winery or two
4 - working on academic projects
5 - relishing being in a great relationship :)

 

My sister and I were on an international flight recently, and the plane began to encounter some strong turbulence.  We were on a large plane, a plane that seats about 9 per row, and usually larger planes are less affected by such turbulence.  As the plane rocked back and forth and did a little jitter dance in the air, it began to creak -- loudly.  I matched eyes with my sister, and across the row from us I heard two ladies begin to talk.  One turned to the other and said, "Wow, that didn't sound good!" and the other replied, "Yeah -- it kind of sounded like that creak in the ship right before the Titanic broke in half and sank."  My sister and I looked at each other and grinned wildly.  It had sounded like the Titanic!
Obviously, mostly because of the fact that I'm here writing this, the plane did not end in the same fate as the Titanic.  :D

 

Taken July 2008.

 

Taken July 4th weekend, 2008.

 

Cosette was about 2 months old here.  I'm not sure why I wrote 3.5 months.