As a Latin American I show passion for stuff and don’t keep it inside.I have been known to throw, dishes, phones and toasters. I get angry. And I have cried.

My Rosemary is not like that. She is shy, reserved and not known for hugging me in public (and rarely in private). And yet…

Here I am missing the warmth that is in her that after 48 years of marriage I know she has. My mother was similar to Rosemary. She used to say, “Love is not kissing and hugging. Love is doing.”

Rosemary worries about me. She may place a chocolate bar on my bedroom table or buy me some special juice I like. She is checking that I have clean clothes to pack and she urged me to buy new jeans now that my waist size has gone from 38 inches to 34. She has made sure I am taking all necessary pills. And best of all she inherited from my grandmother (on a roundabout way?) her ability to pack a suitcase.

Rosemary has made sure I have spare storage cards for my Fuji X-E1 and reminded me to buy a second battery.

In short I am all set.

But I want to almost (but not that bashfully) reveal that on the phone, abroad or at home, my Rosemary oozes with warmth. Had someone invented something beyond virtual phone sex, by now we would have at least a dozen children.

I have not yet left but I am ready to come home and to hug my Rosemary and tell her how sorry I am that I will not be here for April 19^th which happens to be her birthday.