Changes of Latitude

Patrick and I took a trip to AZ with our friends Tim and Charlie Kritter. A little father-son getaway. Blue skies, mountains, desert. Going anywhere with Tim is always a burst of energy. On the plane ride home Patrick observed that the relaxing four days left no time for reading. From sun up to sun down, Mr. TJK had us hiking, biking, exploring, golfing, eating, sight seeing, and generally goofing off. We loved it. Charlie, who spent more time in the past with Aaron and me than PT and me, kept calling Patrick "Aaron". I love hearing other people say Aaron's name...that's one of the most apparent loses. I mentioned to Charlie how I liked hearing him say "Hey, Aaron..I mean Patrick". He said "He looks so much like Aaron!!" Charlie is my Godson. He calls me Uncle Tom.

Of all we saw, Patrick was especially impressed with the natural sights of the University of Arizona campus. Tim pointed out the 4-1 ratio of coeds to men. Patrick is now determined to work on his grades to pursue higher education in a warm climate.

We stayed with Tim's parents, Dr. and Mrs. Kritter. They made sure we were well fed and suggested some extra fun after the sun went down. Mrs. Kritter runs the kitchen and Al's in charge of the commercial sized outdoor grill. They're both good "cookers". In addition to grilling, Al's a private pilot. He took me up in his Piper Arrow for a 10,000 foot view of the ancient desert ocean.

We arrived in Tuscon on a Wednesday evening. I think we flew in from Chicago on a DC-10. That plane has a cruise speed of 600 mph. As we left Madison on the plane, Patrick and I felt some seperation from the sadness and mourning. Sometime Friday morning I felt the grief catching up to me. By Saturday afternoon I was caught. Seems to me grief travels at about 150 mph...not including layovers.

On the way back to Madison, I tried to check the grief baggage and ship it to some undetermined destination. No such luck. You can't run from it, hide from it, give it away or wish it away. But, you can work on grief. Everyday I remember the thought I had read in 1998 and shared at Aaron's funeral: Now that this has happened, what are we going to do about it? What will I do about me?

I'm trying. Two days ago I started to re-read When Bad Things Happen to Good People. If bad things haven't happened to you, have happened to someone you know, or you're not a good people, read that book. The wisdom will come in handy.


Tom