So, it turns out a "direct flight" does not always mean what you might expect.
Direct: Board plane at point A and disembark at point B.
Aloha Direct: Board plane at point Kona and stop in Honolulu, then proceed to Point Lihue , disembark. Board second plane and disembark at final destination.
12 hours on planes and in terminals may explain why Max ralphed all over the gate tunnel-thingy when we got off the plane.
And you might think I have complaints against Aloha Airlines, but No. No, I like them. About 20 minutes before they land, they come around with fresh baked chocolate chips cookies and cold milk, or water. The cookies are still warm. After 5 hours on an airplane, strapped to a narrow seat, thousands of feet over the Pacific and traveling faster than my own two feet could ever carry me, well, I am simply emotionally overcome by the warmth and comfort of that little cookie and 4 ounces of 2% milk. So I smile meekly and thank them: Mahalo. Mahalo for 12 hours of turbulence, security checks, agriculture inspections, and the unexpected inter-island tour, and mahalo for this cookie. It's yummy. I'm easier than you'd think.
We got home after midnight.
Then this afternoon I took Geoff back to the airport, because he has a conference in San Francisco. And I miss him.
And whatever made Max ralph, may be contagious, because my stomach is turbulent.
And another thing... whatever happened to wearing black? Mourning black. Or an armband? Then, at the market, when you see orchids and start crying, people understand you're just mourning. Someone you love has died and even though you are at the market, doing normal things, your world is not normal. Not yet.
Geoff, my one true love, is sending me pictures from his phone.
Does he know how he is touching my heart with these?
Does he know how much I love him?
I hope so.