The last few weeks haven’t been the best for me. Nothing is particularly wrong but a perfect storm of events, emotions and feelings coincided to make me feel a little blue for an extended period of time. It was a feeling of heaviness I was having a hard time shaking. I was busy at work with a few unexpected “surprises”, I’ve been traveling almost nonstop on the weekends for both work and pleasure, a student loan payment change makes my pocketbook feel a whole lighter and the gym and I are long lost friends.
This past weekend I was scheduled to fly to California to see my Mom and her family for a quick weekend. There were things to celebrate, my Aunt’s 50th birthday, a new baby “niece” (my cousin’s daughter) and a grandma to visit. And yet I found myself wondering if I should cancel since I’d been nothing but poor company as of late. B insisted that I go, telling me a change of scenery and some girl time was just what I needed to shake the funk.
After work on Friday I hightailed it to the airport, dodging families and business travelers as I made my way to my gate. There is nothing like going through airport security with a packed bag ready for a weekend adventure to put a slightly better spin on things, but I slowed down as I approached gate B12. It had been announced that a Marine was coming home after a tour of duty in the Middle East and they were encouraging all travelers in the B concourse to come welcome him home. My timing was impeccable, I was getting ready to walk past to my gate when a second announcement came, letting us know this American hero was walking down the jetway. His newborn baby daughter and wife were waiting anxiously at the end and suddenly the crowds swelled and hundreds of travelers stopped their Friday evening rush and began clapping.
As the noise reached deafening proportions I looked around. Business men were lifting small children up to see and companions were pointing to each other, tears in their eyes, high school kids whistling loudly through the din. I saw a glimpse of the khaki swirls that scream “battle dress uniform” and suddenly a tiny newborn baby was lifted up over the crowd by the hands of man in uniform, a little bit like the Lion King. The crowd ate it up, cheering and hollering and taking pictures and reaching out to hug his wife, to pat his shoulder, to carry his bag so he could carry his newborn daughter, her flower headband askew and her hands waving wildly. Anything to say “thank you” to a returning soldier, for a moment no one cared about their connecting flight or their email or downloading one last book to their Kindle before they boarded.
Yes, there is nothing like traveling to give you a little perspective. As I spent the weekend with my Mom, hugging my ever aging Grandmother, celebrating with my Aunt and meeting my tiny, newborn baby niece I couldn’t help but realize that this weekend gave me a big dose of something warm and fuzzy…and it began before I even stepped off the plane in California.
And just like that, everything is as it should be. And when I landed in Chicago late Sunday night/early Monday morning and hugged my husband and my dog (who kindly waited for me in the car in the wee hours) I smiled wider than I had in weeks. There is nothing like not being home to make you realize it is the place that makes you the happiest in the world. Perspective indeed.
