Ah, the glamor of air travel. The bad food; the jet-lag; the being away from your home, missing your kid's first steps, ball games, school concerts.
I have a saying that has been a great comfort over the years. It's always a good flight when you're going home.
But not this day. I don't expect I'll see Dad again until the Final Day. Amen, and amen.
I may get to some blogging this afternoon, if my heart's in it.
If your heart isn't in it, you can borrow a little bit of mine. I'm sure there are plenty of people on your blog roll that would make the same offer.
ReplyDeleteGodspeed.
Wow--your flights get food? Whenever I fly it's on those little commuter jets that they might not even give you a bag of pretzels.
ReplyDeleteYou are in my thoughts. I wish there were a better way to help you through it.
ReplyDeleteGod Bless you and yours.
Stout heart my friend.
ReplyDeleteI don't fly anywhere unless it's to Hawaii - it's only a good flight if there's mai-tais on-board...
ReplyDeleteFood? on an airplane flight????
ReplyDeleteWell at least you are headed South this time...