I just dropped Rick off at the Monterey airport.  He’s going back to the salt mines in Houston for a four day business trip.  I’m going to miss him.  I crave my alone time.  I need it like oxygen.  But since I’ve been sick, I’ve come to depend on him in ways unimaginable the first 29 years of our marriage.

We ate a nice dinner at the Golden Tee, the time warp of a restaurant in the airport.  I had the prime rib, as usual, and Rick the chicken parmesan.  We ate early and the place was packed with locals and their little kids who came to watch the private jets take off and land.

Then we parted ways.  I went to the short term parking lot and he went to his gate.  I could have been sad.  But on my way out, I greeted the ticket taker with my usual southern enthusiasm, “how are you doing today?” And he said, “better now.”

With those two little words, he made my day.  He changed the course of the evening, heck, maybe he changed the course of the next four days.  After thanking him effusively for the corny compliment, I drove down to the beach and watched the sunset. The surfers rode their last waves, families were building bonfires and couples were drinking wine as the sun set over the Pacific. God is in his heaven and all is right with the world. And I’m better now.