Three Hours

Airlines encourage passengers to arrive three hours before their scheduled flight times, but considering the vast emptiness of my gate’s waiting area, I’m the only one zealous enough to do so. I feel like I should be sitting bolt upright clutching a carpet bag and craning my head toward each new marvel à la Anne Shirley. A gingham dress would be a nice touch too; it would look far more earnest than my current getup of hoodie and headphones. I’m on my way home after a long-short time warp of a week, and the threads connecting me to my husband and girls have wound themselves so tightly around my heart that it’s in danger of bursting a seam.

How do parents travel for a living? Or spouses, for that matter? Does that lifestyle grow familiar with time, or does it ache continually like a phantom limb? I know I’m a little pathetic here, but that’s okay. I’ll be home soon smothering my girls with kisses and passing out Nonna’s oatmeal-raisin cookies. Just not soon enough… what with three hours until my flight and all.

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  1. I’ve given up, myself, on complying with that 3 hours before rule: it’s retarded! And I can JUST see you with a carpet bag and your hair in braided pigtails. Hee!!

  2. love from all your friends around the globe wrap you as you travel. Godspeed, dear.

  3. Don’t ever stop writing! When you write, it’s like reading my own thoughts. I often wonder the same thing! (and I’m chronically early too) Safe travels!

  4. oh my, you’re there early!

    hmm. oatmeal raisin cookies…i could go for something like that and a cup of hot tea. it’s freezing here.


  5. Your girls are so lucky. If I had three hours to kill and homemade cookies…um. My kids would be VERY disappointed is all I am saying. Hope you are home by now and happily hugging those beautiful girls and your handsome guy. xo!

  6. Hope you made it home safely and without complications! I know what you mean…at one point on my way home from North Carolina in October, the jungle drums started beating…I was ready to fly a plane MYSELF and get home to my BABY. No more of this sitting around and waiting!

    …at least you had time to check out all the book/magazine shops! and buy some chocolate for the long ride!

  7. Perhaps its a subtle recoil from my emotions but I never arrive early. In fact, I prefer to arrive late, sprint through the terminal and be the last one on the plane (even if this normally involves the stares of others and mild body perspiration). I’m never afraid of missing a flight because I never have – this approach might change, though, if I ever missed one and had to be delayed even longer getting home to my hubby. For now, I prefer the sprinting 😀

  8. Liz – Unfortunately, so can I… ::shudder:: 🙂

    Rain – I’m reveling in it. Thank you, dear.

    Nino – There’s not really a higher compliment for a writer, is there? I’m honored!

    Beka – It WASN’T freezing at the airport (I think the closest Orlando ever gets to snow is the shaved ice at Disney World), but we did enjoy the cookies with hot tea back in [nearly]freezing Italy.

    Megsie – Haha… I probably wouldn’t have had so much self-restraint had I not stocked up on pomegranate-cranberry-white-chocolate granola bars for the trip!

    Sam – “Jungle drums” = PERFECT.

    SJ – There’s definitely something to be said for sprinting. As grateful as I am to have had smooth travels this trip, I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t bring back any harrowing stories with me. 🙂

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