Again
I went to Portland this weekend for the second weekend in a row. The flight was incredibly long. In fact, last night's return flight was so long that my 28-year-old knees ached and threatened not to budge when I finally got to straighten them after landing after one in the morning. Should I be taking calcium supplements?

I made the trip to attend my father-in-law, Mort's 60th birthday party. On the airplane to Portland on Friday night, I realized that it was approximately six years ago when Neil and I made another much more tragic trip to Portland after my father-in-law tried to end his life.

Birthdays become significantly more important when there was a doubt that they'd ever be reached. We almost lost Mort once and so we now try to find any and every opportunity to celebrate his life. Amazingly, I didn't realize this for a while. At one point recently I even wondered why I was putting myself through all of the travel just to attend one party. Isn't my presence the weekend before the birthday enough? I asked myself.

At the party, Mort gave a painfully long speech. He had seven handwritten legal pad pages in his hands and he read nearly every word. Overall, it was comical and completely within his personality to give such an oration so we were able to laugh it off... but what he did say at the beginning of the ten minutes he had the mike, clarified some things for me. He said that when he was little he once drove his bike across the street and as soon as he had cleared the roadway, two cars smashed into each other right where he had been. He said he knew that day that G-d was looking out for him. And then, he said, "A couple years ago, I got away with my life again."

That might have been the first time I'd heard him talk about his failed attempt and express his happiness that he's alive. At that moment, I realized why it really was that we were all there, why I flew across the country for only one night of celebration. We were telling him that we're glad he's alive. Everyone's birthday is a celebration of them and the fact that they're alive. But Mort almost wasn't. He almost chose not to be and anyone that loves him is a little bit worried he could make that choice again. We know that life is fragile,that something can happen in any moment that will alter life forever. With Mort, at least in the eyes of his family and friends, life is just a little bit more fragile.

When we were heading to the airport yesterday afternoon, Mort pulled Neil aside and told him that he has a very special woman (me). I think, given our long history, that that's one of the nicest compliments I've ever received.

I could write here about my exhaustion and about the craziness that took place when we tried to decorate for the party, but none of that is really important. I went to Portland last weekend, for the second weekend in a row, to let my father-in-law know that I am very glad he is alive... and it was worth it.