I should have known.
Airports are rarely neutral territory. They are wrought with the extremities of emotion: from kissing a loved one goodbye to the eager anticipation of new adventures to the feeling of coming home again to joyful opened-armed welcomes. Hidden in the nooks and crannies of airports is magic and stories stuck in the telling.
I just never expected my story to turn out like this.
Thanksgiving was beautiful and family filled and full of laughter. It was, however, lacking. This Thanksgiving was the first holiday that Dan and I spent apart.
I missed him. I missed him a surprising amount. It made me realize how much I’ve been struggling trying to juggle being a mother and a wife. If we had been together, I probably would not have appreciated him as much as he deserves to be appreciated. I probably would have kissed him like I kiss my son instead of how I used to kiss him. I might have even resented him. He could have been 1300 km away and it wouldn’t have made a difference.
But he was 1300 km away.
And it did make a difference.
Holidays are meant to be spent with family. When I married my husband, we created a new family – a family that should be together on Thanksgiving.
This year I was full of gratitude. I have been blessed with the most amazing son! I wanted to tell everyone. Look how thankful I am. Look how awesome Cameron is.
Being away from my husband for Thanksgiving made me realize just how thankful I am for him too. It might be a quieter gratitude, but it is fierce and strong and awesome.
I went to the airport on Thanksgiving Monday to pick up my husband only to find out that he had missed his flight. I had to wait one more night. One more night of being a single parent. One more night of having a half empty bed.
One more night to realize just how thankful I am for the man in my life.
The next night at the airport, I eagerly awaited my husband with my son. Instead of the tears from the night before, I was the most exuberant person waiting. Thankfully waiting.
