He traveled again today…half the world away. How many times have I watched him smile and then turn to go? I watch his back as he walks through the sliding glass doors of another airport. This time he will fly for work, connecting with another flight, and another, and another, taking him eventually 12 timezones from home.
My husband is a traveling man. It is not the life he would naturally choose. He likes being home. Yet it has been part of his life…part of our life…for nearly 20 years. Sometimes, we’ve traveled with him – for two weeks or two years at a time. Our lives have been altered both by our travel and by his.
Our children have grown up across four countries. There were more hellos and goodbyes than we would have preferred – but looking back, we wouldn’t have given up any one of those places. Those places represent people. Those people remain forever in our hearts.
We are settled in the US for now and our children are grown (and amazingly live in the same city as we do). One of us still boards planes and crosses time zones, and it’s not me. I am the one who would love to be the traveler, but it’s not meant to be me at this time of our lives. This traveling man at our house is the one who endures missing connections, jet lag and tummy issues. This downside of traveling is a small price to pay for the great blessing of reconnecting with friends and colleagues scattered all around the world.
So many, these days, travel for adventure and there is much to be had around this glorious globe. This man has adventure thrust upon him sometimes, but he travels for only two reasons – the people and the purpose (work, support, training). In a way, these are our people – people who understand us and whom we understand…people who received us into their lives with the smallest possibility of benefit. We will always be grateful for such friendships…across worlds and cultures.
The many moves we’ve made as a family have caused us to be a bit irregular, it seems. We don’t have all the history and cultural savvy of those who have planted their lives in one place, with one people. I envy that sometimes – folks with life-long friends and extended family nearby. It must be challenging to be deeply in the lives these same friends and family and to also draw a circle that takes in such nomads as us. I am forever grateful again for friends like you.
There are days, because of all our relocations, that it seems our friends are far away. Then, there are other days when my pity party-of-one pitches the idea that I have no friends. [Seriously…still contending with this as a full-fledged adult]. This is not one of those days. My best friend in the world is somewhere over the Pacific Ocean. He will visit with people we love half a world away. I will visit people we love here. Thankful to God that traveling is a very good thing…it moves us toward people (not just away from people).
This man and I have a parting ritual. He runs through the “in case something happens” list [let me know if you want particulars of that – it is helpful to know]. Then, we do sort of a “Thanks for marrying me” farewell…and finally that wonderful, “If I don’t see you here, I’ll see you THERE.”
Hope that wasn’t too morbid for you…it actually always leaves me comforted, as those sliding doors close around him on his way.