Susie Rosso Wolf
While crawling back to Northridge in traffic jammed up for unending miles I quietly sat shotgun as Kurt drove Blackie with great concentration. I wondered if he was reflecting on the miracle of love that we had just experienced together, or was he too much of a man’s man to be devoured by something so wonderful? After twenty-four years of marriage I had come to understand that my husband was not an emotional person unless he was pushed over the edge by an intense situation so moving that he was unable to hold onto that manly man kind of control that I could never possess myself. I caught myself watching him as he drove, unable to contain my curiosity.