I’ve been Skyping or Facetiming Pat every day, in the morning and at night. The 12-hour time difference between Zhengzhou and New Jersey works out perfectly because morning here is nighttime there and vice versa. So when one of us is getting up, the other is going to bed. And when one of us is working, the other is sleeping.

It’s truly amazing to see a clear picture of someone 7,000 miles away while you talk to them. When Pat uses her iPad, I can see her eating in the kitchen, playing with the dogs or feeding the fish. When I was a kid, this was Buck Rogers, sci-fi stuff. Now I know how my grandparents, who were born in the horse-and-buggy era, felt when we landed on the moon.

Pat says we talk more now than when I was living at home. She’s right. There’s something about living apart, especially so far away, that increases the need for communication. When you’re married for a long time, it’s easy to fall into a routine where you only talk about problems or practical matters. Ever since I came to China, Pat and I have been talking about everything, from food and family to Mao and Einstein. I miss her terribly, but in some ways I feel closer to her than ever. Whoever said “absence makes the heart grow fonder’’ knew what he was talking about.