It's almost midnight, and in about 4 hours my alarm clock is going to go off--and there will certainly be no time for blogging in the morning. (I'm wide awake right now anyway, and writing calms me; so I should be sleeping, but instead I'm blogging.) I'm heading to the airport with my baby boy at the crack of dawn, and the two of us are flying out to the Midwest together. My husband, who was going to take him out to college and drop him off at his Army ROTC orientation, got stuck in Europe while flying a trip, and he didn't get back tonight like he was supposed to. Our original plan was that he would fly out, drop off our son, and fly back; and then the two of us would make the long road trip together in a car jam-packed with all of our son's things, and we'd arrive together in time for the regular freshman orientation. That plan is no longer viable, so I am finding myself in the unusual position of being the one to take care of big things. It makes me realize how many burdens my husband has always carried with ease on his wide shoulders, and how easy he has made things for me. I'm never the one having to rent the car, check into the hotel, etc. I have been cared for and treated like a queen! But I suppose it's about time that I helped my husband out a bit more. I'm over 50 now; I guess it's time to grow up!
Luckily, I have been out to visit this special university where our youngest will spend the next four years many times already: to take our three oldest sons to a lacrosse camp one summer; to visit my baby's four older brothers when they were students matriculating there; to enjoy Pearl family football tailgaters/reunions. It is not a completely unfamiliar place. But I have an unfortunate tendency to get hopelessly lost when driving to or from any location that's more than 1/2 hour from my home, so I'm a bit anxious about getting us from the airport to our hotel (which is, thankfully, very close to the campus). But I need to prove to myself that I CAN DO THIS! Everything works better when my man is around, and we certainly perform best when we can be a team; but I know I can do this.
If only it didn't involve flying! Not one leg, which is bad enough, but two! I'm learning, through necessity, to face my fears--although I will certainly be in touch with my Guardian Angel in the morning, and while I'm at 30,000 feet, I'll try to imagine a nice angel bear hug. Just look at this beautiful illustration I found. Wouldn't it be far more comforting to fly in the arms of an angel than in one of those big, noisy, metal contraptions? Then again...this angel isn't even holding onto that little girl with both arms...yikes, maybe airplanes aren't so bad after all.
Wish me luck, and I'll be back next week (unless I can find a way to get on the internet while I'm out there!).
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