May 29, 2006 Monday
First I want to compliment you on your letter, and thank you for writing to me as much as you did, considring how busy you are. I am quite pleased with how well both of us have done with communicating, both in volume and in manner. Your emails, as you will hear again and again, are cathartic and a mental back rub amid so much tension.
I was sort of taken by surprise by the call last ngiht too, and knew your mind as somehwere else from the beginning when you answered by saying your name. I don’t think you’ve ever done that; your sixth sense of knowing it’s me is usually amazingly attuned. You must have been in the middle of some intense shopping, but I was just glad to hear your voice, you know. But I should at least explain the time thing. The time I was given to call was the all time I was given. Sometimes I have to remember another person’s mind, away from this all, will not think of the silly complexities of such a simple thing. I know I would not as well, and would be right there along side with you.
The way it worked is each person on the ship was given half an hour (for over 200 people), for the several cells the ship has. As the afternoon crept into evening I continued to remind my group I was out with I had to be back in time to call you, and with an hour to go I was firm we had to go and enough was enough. When I mean it I’ll get what I want, because they know I do it so rarely, and return the ship we did. As I waited on the flight deck, as the sky dimmed and night came, I suddenly worried about what damage the international rates might do to my available time (as I envisioned finally getting an available phone, to be told by a sterile voice on the other side that I had only three or four minutes! That would have sent a hole through my heart, I do believe). But I was in luck, I was granted by the phone gods, as you like to say, a full forty minutes. I hunched myself into a corner of the flight deck, away from everyone else, as the phone began to ring. I am just happy, again, to get to hear your voice, so that when I do pull out my silent Quicktime movies of us I can imagine what you might be saying, and I can hear you wailing away jubliantly to “Don’t Let Me Down.” Just a few days ago I watched them for the first time. They made my insides shine like a noonday’s sun, and gave me such a peace. Imagine, peace in the middle of war…