I just watched my dear French friends, Howard and Françoise Appel, drive off on the next leg of their visit to a wet California in order to escape the frigid winter of Provence and create new memories with old friends. They stayed in my home for 18 days, and I will miss them sorely in the mix of sadness and momentary relief that always follows a visit from those you love.
I’m not completely out of company. I’m in my office with two dogs, my Gia and my daughter’s Rainn, a boarder while the head of her household spends several days in Las Vegas. The dogs, sprawled out quietly around my desk chair, seem to sense my mood, revisiting the past weeks and savoring the one essential quality beside love that made it work. That quality was pervasive humor that introduced peanut butter into their lives and where opinions cast in concrete were balanced by the art of listening.