Travelling is part of my life like the hump on that cartoon character from Notre dame. It’s uncomfortable but probably makes me more interesting. I think…
Getting to the end of the year, this hump of mine is becoming a life crushing burden. I hate carting the damn thing around everywhere. And I’m not referring to the hump, I’m referring to the fucking suitcase. Focus.
I hate slugging it around as if my life depends on it. Can’t we just walk around naked? It wouldn’t be so bad. I’ll settle for underwear. And do we really need to cleanse ourselves every day? Let’s just drop all the bottles of shit we’re using. And shoes? Okay, we need shoes. Underwear and shoes. Do we have a deal? (Oh wait, I’ve just described a Victorian Secret’s model show didn’t I?)
And let’s not forget the checking in and the checking out. And the constant checking of whether I have my wallet, my passport, my ticket and my mobile phone. And the showing of the damn passport forty thousand times to three different people at customs. And the standing in queues waiting. Waiting for check in, waiting for security, waiting for customs, waiting for food, waiting for a plane…. Waiting. Waiting!! WAITING! And then there’s the actual flying. Oh fuck, don’t get me started on flying…
(Sorry kids, I got myself a little worked up over there. Used one too many f-bombs. Don’t tell mom. And Wife, if you’re reading this, please continue, it gets better. Promise :-))
I just want to go home. So give me a second. I’m trying to calm down, I’m doing my breathing exercises and trying my best to find my fucking enter. On second thought, give me a minute…
The intend of this post is to tell you about the things I miss the most when I travel. It’s not a rant. (Well, it’s a small rant.) There are three things.
Wife is my yellow sun. My source of strength and just like Superman, I fly when I’m around her. Forget flying, I can do anything. I’m Superman for goodness sake. She turns me into Superman because she believes in me, supports me, loves me and warns me when my shit gets a little all over the place. It happens more often than I care to admit. I love her to the point of it hurting inside. Like physical pain kind of hurt. Everytime I’m away from her, I feel the strength leaving my body. I become weaker as the longing for her takes possession of my soul.
Dude is my alter ego. He makes me so proud, I can barely contain myself. I’ve actually been buying bigger shirts because the buttons keep flying off. He is the kindhearted Clark Kent to my Superman. I miss our daily gym sessions, where we talk about arbitrary stuff in his life and then discuss all the idiots, roaming the place likes lions in heat. He is the funniest, most charismatic, confident, friendly, hunka-hunka, bestest son any father could ever ask for. I miss his jokes, his laugh and the way he tries to punch me everytime he sees a Volkswagen Beetle.
Princess is my kryptonite. My weakest link. I’ll do anything for her and she knows that, except allowing her to date. Anyone. So back off boys!!! Her beauty transcends everything I thought I knew about what makes a person beautiful. It’s not just those sparkling blue eyes and her straightened blond hair…it’s the beauty she carries inside. She has such a huge love of life, I wish I could bottle and sell it. I’ll make millions and would definitely not have to fly alone. When she laughs it comes from her heart and when she cries, it’s from the same place.
I do wonder how a simple man like me managed to end up with three of the most amazing human beings on earth sharing my life? And what blows my mind is that these three people are my FAMILY? WTF!!
I do get moments when I’m not sure if I deserve them but then I remember the reason I have them in my life… they keep me wanting to be a better version of myself. Every day. A better father. A better husband. A better man.
I miss you with every ounce of my middle aged frame. And I love you even more.
See you soon…