I am quietly writing this while hiding in a lifeboat.
The GM Finance and I got to watch Junior’s band play a set Saturday night when his cruise ship was in Auckland.
Then we had to abandon ship with the other visitors.
Except the GM Finance went all Greenpeace and chained herself to the gangplank.
Then, after they used bolt-cutters and acetylene torches to cut us loose, we scuttled away like rats.
And we’ve been hiding in this lifeboat ever since.
OK, not really.
But I know we would have done exactly that if we’d remembered to bring along 20 feet of chain and a big padlock.
Because Junior is now at sea for four months.
That would be 120 days.
And the empty nest?
It’s the emptiest it has ever been.
So empty that it hurts.
I’ve written before about decreasing and increasing.
I know this is part of life.
And I am thrilled for Junior.
But for me personally?
It sucks big time.
So I shall build a new website, and chase business, and walk the dogs, and go to Mass a lot, and long for Junior’s emails and songs– especially the ones featuring “Brotha Eli”, the nickname he earned after tearing it up on Motown tunes.
And I shall try to figure out how to fill the days.
The perpetually busy GM Finance will do 10 million things, including GM’ing the Finances, harvesting from the new garden, doing art, building a stockade fence, and conducting various dog-related activities.
But most of all, she will track Junior’s cruise ship.
Every. Single. Day.
She will use the Internet and, I can only assume, stealth bombers and drones.
Because this woman does not mess around when it comes to surveillance.
North to Alaska
As the calendar moves into “Northern Summer”, Junior’s ship will end its Asia-Pacific run, in favor of sailing between the West Coast, Hawaii and Alaska.
With Brotha Eli aboard.
Getting paid to wail on the keys, when he’s not snorkeling and seeing polar bears and meeting all kinds of people.
Which is not half-bad for a young man.
But for the empty-nesters in Nu Zillans?
Not so much.