Half Done with Ike

Hurricane Ike looks to be headed for the Texas coast. Here in Morgan City, Louisiana, my employer plans to stay put with the helicopters unless Ike takes an unexpected turn to the north.

Tomorrow marks 21 days at work. The area manager's instructions this afternoon were to stay in the quarters unless a maintenance run up was required in the aircraft to which we're assigned. Our oil company customers were informed earlier in the week that today would be our last day of flying offshore until Ike is no longer a danger.

The evacuation effort for Ike was easier than for Gustav because we hadn't taken that many passengers offshore when when the calls came to start pulling people back out.

The folks in our scheduling department told me today that they have things covered beginning Friday, so tomorrow will be my last day at work before I head home. Soon, I'll reunite with my wife and son.

Dylan was unhappy when I told him that I'd be at work for an entire extra week. It caught me by surprise. I know he's upset, or sleepy, when he calls me "Daddy" instead of "Dad."

I did what surely any thoughtful, conscientious dad would do: I bribed him out of his sadness.

"Dylan, I'll tell you what: when I get home, we'll go to the mall and I'll buy you two new games for your Wii." "Two games, Daddy?" "Yep, two games."

He'd been sounding like he was five again, but as my eight year-old son recited a list of games he'd choose from, his voice grew deeper. He sounded more like a ten year-old.

"Wow, thanks Dad."

I'll always miss being called "Daddy." But then, it's fun to watch my son grow up.

Oh yeah, sometimes I wish I could go back to holding him as a baby, on a warm summer night, while he points at the sky and announces, "Moon."

But then, I don't need a miracle to go back to those moments. They live on inside me.

Years will go by, and more moments will find a permanent home in my heart.

Really, a guy can't ask for much more than that.