In a sea of Orange...

A quick Google search tells me that I'm 2,876 miles from my wife. Kivalina to Pine City, really?
Feels more like 28, 760 but I suppose that's as the Crow Flies.  Regardless on how it's measured , I know that it's a long damn way and because of that, I won't be hugging my wife or kids in more than 4 and a half months. That's painful. I don't think I'll ever totally accept it but I've learned to block it out and tolerate it more as the minutes tick away.
It's odd what little things set me back.
One day it might be a song. Last weekend I stepped in to a colleague's room to ask a quick question and she had Pandora on to set the mood. The little country ditty "Bottoms Up"  from Brantley Gilbert. was playing and I had to leave the room to gather my wits. That's the dude that was the warm up act at Target Field on the last great date night that I shared with my bride before jumping off the cliff. That was actually the first song that I recognized from pop rotations and it will forever remind me of a great night, hand in hand with Michele.

Another time that I got blindsided with emotion happened on the Buckland Flats. After 2 nights of hunting Seal & Reindeer I decided to forgo a night of duck hunting with the crew and instead stayed back to play with the kids of camp. It was a picturesque evening filled with laughter and comfortable temperatures. Austin, Ivory, Angeline, Edder & Daniel kept my mind off of hunting and zeroed in on having fun. We played basketball on a makeshift hoop, salvaged from a piece of plywood that I gathered that morning on our firewood run. Oscar engineered a play place that was sound, safe and fit perfectly into the landscape. I was sweating and out of breath from lifting kids so that they could dunk it. I neither wanted nor saw no end in sight. The evening seemed to last forever. Basketball gave way to periodic playfulness, which usually meant me swinging kids in a circles by their appendages. It was then that even though it was close to 9:00 at night, I had to put on my sunglasses. Not because of the sun but because of the silent tears running down my cheeks as I realized that I was painfully missing my own children but wonderfully making connections and learning about myself.
That hit me like a ton of bricks and I yearned for home.

Each time I cry or let a drop of tear leak from the corners of my eyes I almost feel a cleansing. They are painful at the time but quickly followed by a deep breath and a weight being lifted from my shoulders. I've not fully grasped it yet.
Yesterday while on a SKYPE visit with my old man and Rose I let more than a few leak. My dad asked a question and one of them made a statement comparing those kids on the island with my own kids at home. They knew. I think once the Dam burst I was afraid to let them see a kink in the armor. But it's there. And I don't want it to go away. It's therapeutic. Really.

Not a song or a swing nor a visit with loved ones...tonight it was a glimpse of my ugly mug in the mirror.
Tonight I saw that one WHITE hair on my chin that stands out in a sea of orange. That one white hair reminds me that I've reached 40 with a full mane of hair. While most of my friends have gone gray and or balding, my locks are long and my beard is, for the most part, orange. Except for that one gray hair.
And that's the one that Michele is usually after. It's the one that garnishes the most attention from my wife. I hadn't seen it there yet and unless it just turned color on me overnight, it came out of hiding tonight. And as I washed my hands after a potty break, and looked at the one white hair on my chin - I longed for the watchful eye of my wife.