Day 69

I left for Portland on Thursday. Something about traveling always makes me a little reflective and solemn. Looking out from my little airplane window on clouds and sky makes me feel very serious and philosophical. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been that way. So with all that is going on lately, Thursday felt…heavy. I thought about Ken and his family of course. I tried not to get angry that I have to travel from home and miss his funeral. I thought a lot about our move to Atlanta and how special it is to have someone to live a life with and face new experiences with and call the minute your plane lands.

There was a soldier coming home from Iraq on my plane. He looked like he was 16 and his seat was in the last row of the plane by the bathrooms. The flight attendant moved him up to first class and the whole plane clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front. I cried and felt like a total dork and was happy for the dimmed cabin lights. I tried to wipe my tears away inconspicuously as I gazed out the window and thought how bittersweet life can be sometimes. How in one day you can kiss your husband goodbye, grieve the loss of a friend, travel from one coast to the next, and celebrate a soldier’s homecoming.