Three Days

Time is getting short for me here in the States. It’s even shorter than the title of this post would suggest, because I’m a day late sharing this. I sat in traffic most of the day yesterday and spent last night without WiFi. I’ll spend all night tonight in the air, so it’s no longer the “three day” point. But these photos and my last evening at Marcia’s house in Eastern Virginia are too important to me to go unrecognized.

Terry Anderson has become one of the most unlikely friends I’ve made in my lifetime. A quick Google search will show you his mark on this world--Terry was held for nearly seven years by Shiite Muslims in Iran while serving as a Middle East bureau chief for the Associated Press. He has since been active in political circles as well as become a published author. He got behind my novel High Kill from a very early stage and has since become someone I truly enjoy spending time with. Saturday evening I met his lovely sister Judy and enjoyed a lively debate between him and my dear friend @martiawilson about everything from spirituality to politics. It was good natured to a word and fueled with good wine and good food. We had a blast.

Saying goodbye to Marcia was tough. But it was only a cursory goodbye--she and I will be in constant touch over the next few months. She is helping with my Anatolian crisis--my mobility assistance dog Milo who was meant to fly over with me but couldn’t due to a paperwork snafu. He’ll join me in a few weeks, but only because of Marcia’s herculean efforts.

Last night, Martia and I passed a few comfortable hours in an Airbnb owned by a lovely, quirky couple in Flushing, NY. His mother-in-law was a black-and-white film actress who starred alongside the likes of Sophia Loren and Ernest Borgnine and the home is filled to the brim with authentic memorabilia from those days. This morning, I listened to Roaring Twenties music on the first actual phonograph that I’ve ever heard play. John’s current wife is a dynamo--a retired Korean music teacher who collects lovely art, furniture, and musical instruments from violins to pianos to tiny guitars. Martia--a retired music teacher herself--felt quite a kinship and they had much to talk about as the hours ticked away.

In just a few hours I’ll be winging my way to Paris with a dear friend and two very excited little dogs. I’ll have more to report later today and after I land. I still don’t know how this is my life. But apparently it is, and I’m grateful for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see more than just my tiny corner of the world.

Other Posts in this Series (because this one won't make sense if you haven't read the other ones)

Forty Days
Thirty-Nine Days
Thirty-Eight Days
Thirty-Seven Days
Thirty-Six Days
Thirty-Five Days
Thirty-Three Days
Thirty-Two Days
Thirty-One Days
Thirty Days
Twenty-Seven Days
Twenty-Six Days
Twenty-Five Days
Twenty-Three Days
Twenty Days
Eighteen Days
Seventeen Days
Fifteen Days
Fourteen Days
Twelve Days
Eight Days
Six Days
Five Days