Traveling man

I am going on the road for a couple of days, starting tomorrow. Honestly, I should probably be trying to wind down to get to sleep early, so that I can get out of bed by 3:30 a.m. for the drive. I am removing four systems tomorrow, and installing four new systems. This is partly a training exercise for Raul. I am sure that he will do well and we will get a lot done. We work together very well, having known each other and worked together for about five years already. I figure that I will have to stay in a hotel for one night, but it could turn into two nights and three days.

Tonight, I feel like the guy who is having his last meal before he walks the green mile. I know, it is an obvious embellishment, but I just hate not seeing Heather and Gabriel every day. The night before I hit the road to do some traveling, I always feel an odd sense of loss or anxiety, and I know that I will be missing something special when I am away from home. Heather and Gabriel are the two people who light up my life. Of course, the little person kicking Heather more and more frequently also is blessedly important. The formal introductions are scheduled for late July. Until then, I can listen to Heather’s comments, especially when she gets a good kick from our unborn child, who we assume is saying, “There is barely any womb to move in here!” and invariably, Heather responds with, “Hi, Baby!”

In July, Heather’s greetings will address our second child as “Jericho” or “Avigayil,” though I think that if we have a daughter, I can live with calling her “Abby.” I am not too big on abbreviating some names. For example, I cringe when family members refer to our son as “Gabe.” Yuck. If I figured that his name was going to be “Gabe,” I would not have even considered that name. Besides, his given name is Gabriel, and that is what we always call him. I always will, too. Some names just abbreviate well. For example, maybe Jericho could be shortened to Jerry. I can handle that. Jerry suggests the nice neighbor who will do anything for you. Abby sounds like a precocious, petite cherubic girl with pigtails and smiling eyes. Nevertheless, Gabriel will always be Gabriel, and never Gabe. No thank you!

I predict that our second baby is a boy. If that turns out to be the case, we will save Avigayil for our third child's name, assuming a girl, of course. Heather tells me that when I am on the road and sending her text messages, the baby gets more active, as if in response to some biological change in Heather when we get a chance to connect, even if it happens to be via text. With that thought, I was beginning to wonder if we are actually expecting a baby girl. Lately though, I feel that it is likely to be another boy, which thrills me to no end. By the way, Avigayil is Hebrew, and it means “My father’s joy.” Whether this is a boy or a girl, being a dad brings me joy. Gabriel brings me delight, Heather fills my life with bliss, and our new baby will do the very same thing.

Good night, world. I am out of here.