Flight delay. Poop.


NOT Baltimore.
NOT Baltimore.

You left Tuesday with your carry-on bag and toiletry kit,
And I think you said business in Houston, or Baltimore.
Your mom can’t believe I don’t ask for flight info, a hotel number
And what car rental company you’re using,
But I know we can Facetime whenever,
So what does it matter where you are? Not here.

I know this week you probably saw something interesting,
And you had a joke to share with me,
Or maybe a thought that bubbled up,
Spurred by a historic building, or urban art, or a homeless wanderer.
But traveling alone is never quite as interesting to describe later
As to live first-hand.

And here I’ve been, keeping the pace
Of violin lessons and swim team and car pools,
And early meetings and evening meetings all scheduled when I forgot
You were traveling this week,
Not to mention getting dinner on the table at least once or twice
(Hot dogs last night)

There will be a time when we have more time,
When the kids and our work are done and we’ve rid ourselves of the crazy.
When we can think. And talk. And sleep, read, breathe.
Until then, ‘I miss you’ means ‘I miss your face, voice, stories,’
But it also means ‘I wish you could drive the kids to school tomorrow,
Because, Jesus I’m tired of thinking through how to be two of us at once.’


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