Touch You Last

Sarah was the first girl that I ever imagined being married to. This is 100% a true statement. I’m not misremembering or reinventing how I felt 30 years ago. I can’t remember precisely when that feeling hit me, but I know it was very soon after we got together. Before Sarah, there were girls I dated just to figure out what dating was, there were girls I dated where I knew things would be short term, and there were girls I dated where the relationship was barely even real. (I make it sound like there were teams of girls in each of those categories but there were literally three people.) Then, along came Sarah. We were friends for a long time before things progressed, and getting together wasn’t a sure thing. There was a sense of doom attached to it at first. We were both dating other people at the time and we were sure a lot of people would hate us if we ever got together. But then we broke up with the people we were dating, we got together – and it was magic. It was love between fr...

Ask anyone who has known Sarah to describe her in just a few words, and I guarantee that some variation of the word smart  will be the first thing you hear. (Often smart AF , maybe wicked smart  when you're within the Boston Metropolitan Area.) My girl has brains to spare. She knows a lot about a lot. If you're threatened by her intelligence, it speaks more about you than it does about her. In conversation, she's engaging; she listens - she doesn't steamroll over you (even though she probably already knows everything you're about to say long before you finish saying it). If you've got your facts wrong, she'll correct you in a kind way - unless you're a blowhard, and even then she won't dunk on you just for the sake of it. She's a very active listener and loves to add layers and nuance to what you're saying. She likes teaching people things they didn't know, but her brain really lights up when she's talking with someone and finds out ...

The term "rope-drop" has become a weirdly ubiquitous phrase in our family. I didn't realize how commonplace it was until this past summer when we were at a waterpark and Teddy suggested we rope-drop the lazy river ride.  If you've never heard the phrase before, it's essentially a Disney thing where you arrive at the park before it opens so you can march directly to your ride of your choice once the staff drops the rope. You typically target the most popular ride, and by rope-dropping, you have a 15 minute wait for the ride instead of a 2 hour wait if you get there later in the day. Sarah was a pro at this for our first Disney visit, and has perfected the art over subsequent trips. We've rope-dropped Seven Dwarves Mine Train, Radiator Springs Racers, Rise of the Resistance, Test Track, Web Slingers, Big Thunder Mountain - I won't attempt to do the math, but I can safely say she's saved us 25 hours of waiting with this skill (not counting subsequent park...

  Earlier this year, Sarah and I had a rare experience: a long car ride without the kids. It was just the two of us in the car for over four hours – with no kids shows playing in the background, no interruptions, no little ears nearby.   And we spent four hours just talking about us. I don't quite remember how it started, but it became this moment-by-moment retelling of our relationship from the very start – from back in high school as we were just becoming friends. For decades she has been my favourite person in the world, my best friend, the heart of all my best memories, and you'd think there wasn't much more we could learn about our story. But maybe through complete honestly, new perspectives earned over time, and Sarah's still shockingly good memory for details, we both learned things we didn't know. When we got home, I pulled out a box of old letters and it became this archeological dig. The words I’d written, I'll admit, were shockingly juvenile at time...

Understatement: Sarah is a reader. True statement (which may sound exaggerated but isn’t): Sarah has read over 200 books so far this year. She’s the voracious reader I wish I was and imagined I’d be when I was younger. Real books, e-books, audiobooks – she eats them all up. The area beside our bed is a minefield, where she’ll have 30 or so books within reach. (She only reads two or three at once, but she likes to have options.) Her interests are broad , and it’s easier to list off what she doesn’t like: sci-fi, fantasy, and horror. She also doesn’t love depressing fiction, but she has read some of the most depressing-sounding non-fiction that you’ve ever heard of. Falling Home: Creating a Life That Catches You When You Fall, If I Knew Then: Finding Wisdom in Failure and Power in Aging, Invisible Women: Data Bias In a World Designed by Men; What Happened To You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resistance, and Healing . True story – one night in bed, I rolled over around three in the morni...

My first draft of this began, "Sarah is not afraid of having difficult conversations." And from the outside, that seems very true. When she argues with someone who's being deliberately ignorant, or when she tells a friend or family member something they need to know but don't want to hear – she does it with  confidence and conviction. These are the conversations that most people would rather dive off a cliff then have, and she marches right into them, seemingly without fear. But that’s only the way it appears. She feels the same deep discomfort as you and I do, but pushes through that to say what needs to be said. About half the time, it’s the choleric in her that makes her speak up. When someone is promoting a mistruth, especially a dangerous one, she’s all over them. Anti-vaxxers beware because (in her own words) vaccination is the hill she will always die on. She regularly takes on relatives (of mine, sadly) who post White Lives Matter-style garbage on social media...

Day six of the cruise is Halifax, and we make no plans other than to see frieeeeeeends! I’d emailed Pat two weeks before (because I’m a disorganized piece of crap) to let him know we’d be in Halifax for the day… and would love to see him… but we understood that it was crazy last minute so no worries if he couldn’t… but we would love to see him, and further easygoing yet pleading statements followed by ellipses. Supercool guy that he is, he cleared his schedule for the day so he could be with us. It had been eleven damn years since we’d seen each other, when he’d passed through Ottawa on a road trip, and we were beyond overdue to meet up again. He met us near the dock, looking unaged in a way that was criminal (which did not surprise me in the least). I hugged him until he pooped, and then we went for a walk. There’s a very nice public park near his apartment and we started there, catching up a little bit on life and career stuff. Emerging from the park, he drew our attention to the...

I love the way Sarah moves. She’s a hand-talker, but none of her motions are wild or flailing: she’s precise. If she’s talking about a sequence or an order of things, her hand does a dicing-vegetables motion. If she’s talking geography or anything spatial, she’ll drape her hands over imaginary items, moving them from place to place. If she’s not doing that, she’s plucking things from the air, spreading her palms over the expanse of something, or chopping both hands at the sky in unison. When she overhears strangers talking and realizes she can help them out (with directions, facts, or general knowledge), she’ll literally tiptoe over to them, put her wrists down to her hips with her hands spread parallel to the floor, and she'll tilt her body the one side as if she’s peeking out from behind a curtain. It’s her delicate approach where she physicalizes her awareness that she’s been eavesdropping, and she’s sorry to interrupt but I have knowledge to share! When she dances, ...

In Saint John, our plan is to follow the river walk and reach the Reversing Falls. This is an area where the Saint John river meets the Bay of Fundy. As a result of the difference in elevation (up to 50 feet depending on the level of the tide), the resulting effect can include whirlpools and crashing waves. The name given for this phenomenon is the Tidal Bore. It’s a hike and a half to get there, which is okay because I’ve got more than my share of meals to walk off. Once upon a when, the walk was just industrial wasteland, but there’s now a well-maintained brick path with various playgrounds, art installations, and informational signage along the way. While we take in relatively little of the informational tidbits along the route, we catch a shit ton of Pokemon, so at least there’s that. After about forty minutes of walking, we make it to the Reversing Falls. We get there relatively early in the day, so the water isn’t doing crazy things, but spectator-wise, the area is also fairl...

One of the downsides to travelling on cruise ships frequently is that you’re likely to dismiss an entire city based on your very limited window of experience. If a city isn’t screamingly unique right off the bat, or if the last city was amazeballs and this city is noticeably-less-amazeballs, it’s easy to check out mentally. In my head, I briefly wrote off Portland. Probably because we started with a long walk through all the rubby-dub sections of town -- areas where heavy construction had been started but them seemingly abandoned. Sarah needed to find a TD Bank and then she wanted to visit a Trader Joes, and this dictated the path we took. I remember checking the time on my phone thinking we still have seven hours to spend in this damn port! But then we took a Lyft back to our ship, dropped off the 15 pumpkin-spiced somethings we bought at Trader Joes, and effectively rebooted our visit to Portland from there. Sarah arranged a foodie tour for us. There were I think 12 of us o...

We’re in Bar Harbor, Maine, which is a brand new state for both of us. Disembarking goes smoothly, and we’re off and wandering the town soon enough. It’s just after eight so there’s not much open, but we stroll around, getting a lay of the land and hitting various Pokestops (because we are sad adults who make Pokemon Go a priority whenever we’re in a new place.) Eventually we stop for coffee at a place called The Independent, which happens to serve the hottest Americano that the world has thusfar managed to create. I can barely carry it to our table, and I tell Sarah, “I’m gonna drink this… tomorrow.” We soak up free wifi and I manage to get the coffee inside of me, and then we head over to church because it’s Sunday. I’m hoping for a super baa-haa-baa-ry accented priest, but this one just sounds exactly like Ray Romano (who is not from Maine, so far as I know, but I’m entertained none the less.) After mass, we walk over to the water – to where the bar of Bar Harbour will later ...

Our first day at sea. We sleep in a little then try the Windjammer for breakfast and it’s a horrible mistake: just rammed. We console ourselves with nice coffees at the Diamond lounge. A little later in the day, the climbing wall opens. I go up twice and it is hard. The wall slants steadily outward and there’s fewer firm handholds than the last ship. But I make it to the top both times so hurray for me. The Flowrider is open again, but this time it’s surfing. There’s an older Australian couple on the trip (either in their late fifties or very early sixties) and they’re just crushing it while surfing. They take turns doing about eight runs a piece, looking like absolute heroes, then they notice me and apologize for hogging the ride, but I tell them not to worry because I’m totally divided about trying it. I watch for probably 20 more minutes before working up the courage to try. I know I’ll suck and my goal going in is to last four seconds by cruise end. I get to maybe three and a h...

We fly into Newark on a totally pain-free flight: breezing through security and immigration, board quickly, and snooze a lot on the plane. It’s usually disconcerting when you’re travelling without the kids because you always feel sure you’ve forgotten something, or that you can’t 100% relax because you have to scan around and make sure everyone’s happy. But we ease into our solo trip pretty naturally even on the flight. It looks like a pile of yuck for everyone at Newark trying to fly out, but we waltz on out of that airport and onto a Lyft that takes us to the cruise port. Because we’re Diamond status, we get to be among the first to board, which I have to admit is a really great perk. It’s our second trip on Royal Caribbean and our first on a Voyager class ship, the Adventure of the Seas. Key differences include the Promenade – which is a boardwalk with shops, a pub, an ice cream parlor, and other stuff; there’s also the Flowrider (a surfing simulator); a skating rink; and water...

Our last day in Rome is a day of churches. I lose count of the how many we see total throughout our four days in Rome. There are standouts of course (St. Paul Outside-The-Walls, Santa Maria Sopra Minerva), but in my head a lot of the rest have merged into one, impossibly-full structure. Even Sarah has to make notes on her phone to keep all the names straight. (And she's more than welcome to share them here.) We return to the cat sanctuary, so we can do something nice for the kids who have been beyond patient. For the four days in Rome, they've walked forty kilometers and complained almost not at all. They've been really amazing. We also stop at the Trevi Fountain, where everyone throws coins and ensures their return one day. Back near the hotel, we spot a McDonald's and decide to give the kids a substantial lunch for a change, rather than apples, chips, or pizza with hotdogs in it. McDonald's, at least while we're there, happens to be the most popular restaura...

It's Sunday and Sarah has identified a few churches that hold mass in English. The closest is Trinità dei Monti which is the church at the top of the Spanish Steps. As we walk, we see dozens of joggers - it's the only day we see any joggers, so apparently Sunday is Runday in Rome. Every runner we see, regardless of age, runs at a fantastically slow pace, and it makes me feel all smug and superior knowing that I can run upwards of 7 kilometers per hour - until I remember that everyone here is running on cobblestones and probably would prefer to keep their ankles unbroken. We hike the steps only to find out that the mass times advertised online don't line up with the real life mass times. So we hike back down to another church and attend mass in Italian. After this, we have a long walk (is there any other type in Rome?) in the direction of the Colosseum. We pass the Vittorio Emanuele II Monument - the wedding cake building - which was built in honour of the first king of ...

On cruise ships with Sarah’s dad, we often talk about what would be the worst job to have. Leaving personality preferences out of it, laundry staff often tops our list. So far in Rome, the worst job I’ve come across is the poor bastard who was the take care of the breakfast room at our hotel. I say this because the room is about twelve feet wide, maybe thirty feet long, and seats about twenty people. It’s like serving breakfast inside a toy submarine. Despite the close quarters, the food is very good: pastries, yogurt, cereal, bread with honey or Nutella, prosciutto, and cappuccino. We’re taking the subway to the Vatican today. All nearby stations are closed due to escalator repairs, so the day starts with a bit of a hike, but we eventually get to an open station and we’re at our destination soon enough. The line to get inside looks about half a mile long, but it’s sort of now-or-never. The next day is Palm Sunday (which will be insane), and following that is Monday, which is a ...

Disembarkation is as easy as can be. The only thing that goes poorly all morning is that Teddy wants to take picture of some of his friends but we only track down one (Kaveh). There’s another kid, Drayson, that Teddy’s hoping to find, but it doesn’t pan out and he’s pretty upset. He does eventually rally. As far as every other aspect of getting off the ship, it goes absurdly well.   At baggage claim, our bags are right there and easy to find, then apparently it’s You Don’t Need To Pass Customs Day in Italy because we just waltz straight from International Waters onto land totally unimpeded. And then even though we’re off the ship 30 minutes earlier than expected, the shuttle we arranged is already waiting for us. Our driver is a middle-aged woman who is lovely but also chatty AF, and poor Nonna volunteers to sit up front with her. By the end of the hour-long drive from Civitavecchia to Rome, Nonna manages to squeeze in about four words. (And these words are si, si, preggo , and...

While our first day in the Med was completely smooth, things got choppy on the second day. About 7am, the boats started rocking and rolling – and it’s the worst seas we’ve had so far. Susannah complains about a sore throat, and we assume it’s from the cough she’s had for a few days. Veronica is feeling very green, and Sarah’s mom is rough also, but Teddy is surprisingly fine. We decide that everyone would benefit from fresh air, and just before we get out of the cabin, Susannah stumbles into the bathroom and barfs. The sore throat is actually nausea, but once it’s out, she’s right as rain. Everyone gets a little breakfast in them, and the greenest among us have a walk outside, and everyone is basically okay again. We spend a lot of time with Kaveh today, who I haven’t mentioned yet. He’s this very friendly kid travelling with his family, and his parents let him roam freely (as long as he meets them at given times). So he just sort of roams and makes friends and hangs out with wh...

We get off the ship soon after receiving the all clear. We’re in Valencia, and our destination is the Oceanographic, which is an aquarium and aquatic preservation area, and we have to get there well before it opens to we can be first in line for tickets (and skip hordes of people in the process). Sarah is wise in her planning. She hands me twenty euros and arms me with the name of our destination in the instance that all five of us can’t fit in the same cab. And she’s right, we have to take two cabs. If not for her, when we got separated I’d just waving a toonie at passersby, crying, “Need help! Find wife!” Out of the cab, Sarah holds our place at the gates while I walk around with the kids. When we come back twenty minutes later, there’s about 200 other people waiting. The gates open, we’re the second family to get tickets, and we’re off to the races. We start at the outdoor ponds where we see sea otters and huge sea turtles. There’s actually a pretty big turtle area, includi...