Because my son went to work extra early this morning (after being off since I had flown in), I got the girls out of the house for school before I went to the airport. That may not sound like a big deal, but if you've tried recently to get a twelve-year-old and a five-year-old out the door on time, you know. The older one will putter around, probably preening as most middle-schoolers will do, and this morning she got to the bus stop with about two minutes to spare. As I rushed her along, I was waking up her little sister. That may have been the hardest part! That little gal would sleep until ten or noon if she could. She doesn't stay up late; she just really likes to sleep.
Anyway, after I had dropped her off to go into her kindergarten class, I had a pang of sadness about leaving them when I went back to Florida. I went back to my son's house and repacked my suitcase. When I started loading up the car, it was snowing -- again! I left earlier than I had intended. Going over the mountain in the snow is no fun, even with four-wheel drive. It took forever, and I stopped along the way to get a coffee. My son called, and I told him how I had felt when I walked the little one into school, and I said that the snow was my reminder that it wasn't so bad to leave them behind. He knew I was (kind of) joking.
I was at the airport with an hour and a half to spare. I was fortunately to get a seat upgrade, not to first-class, but better than I had had. When I got off the plane, the sun hit my face. Warm air! Sunshine! No snow! I was nearly delirious in my appreciation for the perfection of it all. I had a wonderful visit; now I am home with things to do, and I will see those sweet babies (that's what I call the up-north contigent, including my nearly-thirty-six-year-old son) in no time at all. Life is good.
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