"The rest of those who have gone before us cannot steady the unrest of those to follow."
Fall vacation. Just the words put a lilt in my voice and a warm ray of sunshine in my heart. It means "slipping the surly bonds of Earth" and flying to some far away destination. It means some beach somewhere. It means the undivided attention of my lovely, bright, engaging wife - and my undivided attention to her. A big boat, a room with a view. It means Kindles and restoratives, swimsuits and suntan lotion, lavish dining, a tux for me and an evening dress for her.
This year, it is also an escape from pain. The loss of a coworker is only part of it - a huge part, to be sure. But I've had to watch, powerless, as friends around me struggle to understand that loss. When a good friend mentions that a part of him believes his buddy is on vacation and will soon call...and there are no words for him I feel helpless.
I'm an introvert's introvert. I need time away to collect my thoughts. I'm lucky - I have a great wife, a lot of good and caring friends and a trip just over the bow. For a week I can set things aside. It's not even that far to go. I don't have to go to Egypt to cruise denial.
Avalon Landing, Finding Forrester, William Forrester,
as read by Jamal Wallace (Rob Brown), 2000.