Mandi is in New Albany Mississippi. Jillian is in Lexington South Carolina. Both have miles to go.
Jillian is facing eight travel hours with a twenty-month old active child who will have a breakdown at the two, four, and six hour mark. It's hard on an adult; imagine the little guy without knowing there is a final destination.
Holly and Paloma, Tony and I are only three hours away from our all-day flights. All of us will help herd four little children eight and under.
The destination: Florida.
Each named child includes her family. Spouses and children.
It's going to be a long day.
But a joyful day. We know the why.
As the mother of this brood, it's easy to feel stress with such mass movement. The statistics and odds are against us, and they have been in the past.
Jillian already hit a bird on the first freeway on-ramp. It was big enough that they had to pull over immediately. Fortunately, there was no damage to the car.
Mandi left Chicago a couple hours late due to a plumbing issue in the garage.
Our flight was delayed forty-five minutes. We received the notice late last night. It will cut close our connection in Dallas.
Once, on our way to Florida, a hurricane threw air traffic into unexpected places. We landed in Baltimore and stayed an unexpected night. The first flight out in the morning could accommodate most of our party. Most. Jillian and husband spent an extra day in the airport.
Once, an East coast snow storm landed us in Boston instead of New York. A volcanic eruption kept Tony out of Europe. Waiting for a piece of luggage once kept us from reaching home and canceled a student's doctoral dissertation. Our family's been divided in Costa Rica and Florida. Split-second decisions had to be made. Who stays? Who has to get home for urgent obligations?
So why do we travel? Because there is a why.
Late this afternoon, we will all be together, and that somehow makes up for the odds against us.
We'll play in the ocean. Uncle London will make the little ones laugh. We'll build sandcastles and bury little legs in the sand. We will eat too much ice cream. I will hold little hands while walking on the beach. On the deck, with the breeze just right, we will watch the sunset, the storm in the distance, and cousins will converse in little people language.
Family is a strange thing. Ties are real and strong, but love, respect, and care must always be nurtured.
We are tender, we are tough, we are family.
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