An Airport Goodbye

How come they sleep in when you have to go the airport?

How come they sleep in when you have to go the airport?

When you go out of town for a conference, there are certain things you have to do before you leave.  One of them is saying goodbye to your children.  Your sweet, sleepy-eyed children who are standing on the edge of your mini van as you wheel your luggage towards the automatic airport doors, where O’Hare will swallow you up and send you far, far away from them.

If you’re like me, maybe you will stand in the long ticketing line watching your kids pile back into your mini van and you will see your husband strapping them into their car seats.  Your eyes will fill with tears that you beat back, but when you realize that you can’t you will grab your wheelie suitcase and rush back out through the doors. “Mommy wants one more kiss! Mommy wants one more kiss!” You scream to your children who had forgotten all about you, but now you’ve riled them up.

Your two-year old starts whimpering, “I don’t want you to go.”  So you start crying. For real.  Your three-year old is less depressed, but that makes you cry too.  These smushy perfect little people, they better be just the same when you get back.

Don’t change.  Don’t get hurt.  Don’t forget me.

“It’s time you go,” your husband says.

Shit, he’s right.  You grab the one more hug and one more kiss from each and go back through the door, this time, you’re ready.  Ready to stand in the security line and bawl because you’ve never done this before and you’re scared something will happen to them. To you. Something bad.

If you’re lucky, you can dial up your early rising friends and tell them how sad you are that your minivan full of your heart is pulling away and you are going off in the other direction.  Without them.

How can this be right?

Your friend Mary might tell you wonderful things you don’t believe, but you wish you did.  Stuff like “when you walk directly toward your vision everyone benefits.  Especially your children.”  She will say that and you will let those fucking tears fall because no one in the U.S. Airways security line is paying any attention to you.  They want their coffee and they want their own kids to behave on their upcoming flight to Philly.

When you finally get in your seat, you will hold your book in your hands and you will close your eyes and say to yourself:

What the hell am I doing? Damn, I’m brave.

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26 thoughts on “An Airport Goodbye

  1. You are brave. You inspire me so much. It is hard to leave your family, but honestly, your posts remind me that I need to keep going, to push through.

    Have a great trip and enjoy your conference. I can’t wait to hear about it. You will blog about it, right?

  2. Venturing into unknown territory is hard. I only travel solo maybe once a year. And it’s awesome. And I always have feelings I didn’t expect to have. My hubs travels somewhere almost every week…so common that it doesn’t occur to me to worry.
    You’re a great mama. You love your peeps. And you love yourself enough to follow your dreams. Everyone should have a mama who models that.

  3. Ok- now you’re making me cry!! And, inspiring me to find my ART! Not sure what that is but I want to find it and then take a trip! Soak it up mama!

  4. I just love your brave ass to bits. Have a great time and take notes of the blogging material. Gosh, I hope you run into someone weird. I want to read about weird people. 🙂

    • Oh they exist, but I don’t pine over those like I do the ones that are adorbs. Wait. Does that make me shallow?

      On Mon, Jun 10, 2013 at 12:30 PM, Outlaw Mama

  5. I 100% agree with Mary. When you walk directly into your vision everyone benefits. Now, with that said, I want her number for the next time I am going through what you went through at that airport!

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