Staying Home

I know he will only be gone for twenty-eight-ish hours – a blink.

I ask if I can drive him to the airport. It is probably cheaper for him to park over night. I think he wonders why.  He will be gone for such a short time.

He travels all the time on business. I am ok with him leaving. I am fine when he is gone. Today, I just do not want him to go or better, I want to be with him a little longer. It is just nice to touch his arm as he drives down the highway.

The first years of our marriage were spent with Dave traveling – a lot. I got really used to having him go. We got really good at navigating his trips. The airport was ten minutes from our doorstep to Curbside Drop Off.  One of my favorite marriage memories is when in 1998 Dave traveled to South Africa.  Ok, I think the actual trip is actually one of his favorite memories. At the time, it was so expensive to talk on the phone that chatting with him online was a happy dream.  He was there. I was here, yet we were connected in every keystroke. I would look at the computer screen in awe and say out loud, “He is chatting with me from South Africa!”

Recently, Dave is again traveling frequently.  The boys and I always have a good time when he leaves (and of course when he is here). For some reason, today I do not want him to go. I don’t think his plane will crash. I know he will be back before I can fold all the laundry. I know we will be ok.

So I make my unwilling boys, DSI’s in hand, get in the car and drive Dad to the airport.  “Do we have to go? Can’t we just stay home?  Please? MOM?” I tell them that it is not a choice and to get in the car.  Surprisingly they submit, willingly they get themselves in the car and we are on our way.

Dave’s arm is on mine while he drives.  We do not say much. His arm is on mine all the way. This is the connection I needed and these quiet moments driving the mountainous route through I-80 are making it ok.  His touch fills my longing tank. I am ok, completely ok.  He grabs his carry on, hugs the boys, I kiss him twice at the curb and I am on my way.

4 Comments
  1. August 5, 2010
  2. August 5, 2010
  3. August 5, 2010
  4. August 5, 2010