Thoughts from the Unexpected Plane

Picture this:

I am standing in the aisle, typing, my mac propped up on the top of the back of my seat. Got it?

8 hours to Philadelphia – 2 1/2 to Orlando – I can’t sit anymore. I feel like I have been run over by a truck.

This is an unexpected plane.

My grandfather has died. He was cantankerous, comical and quick. Quick-witted, not walking. He raised 5 amazing children.  The eldest of which is my father.  I could not be more thankful.

At the top of my grateful list is family.  I am biased – but I have the best.

I never laugh so hard, smile so big, or can be so real with anyone else. Thanksgivings at Granddaddy’s are legendary.

But I am now leaving a part of my family in Spain too.

I am leaving Madrid to get back on the emotional roller coaster that is:



If you knew this was the ride, would you still get on?

I would. Every time.

I know it will be hard when I go back. It always is.

I wanted to stay. I want my grandfather to still be alive and I want to feel settled in Madrid.

But honestly if it stays the way it is, I am okay with that too.

Missing means you love something. Someone. Some place.

If I am here and miss there – and there and miss here – then I love and am loved more than most.

I’ll take the back and forth, the up and down.

I hope those I love will take it too.

I have hugs waiting for me on both sides of the Atlantic.

Some thing are expected.