Notes on missing home

No matter how many times we do this, it never gets easier to be away from home. I thought it would get better when the kids were grown, but truth is I miss them just as much as I did when they were younger.

I know I’m a lightweight, but after 20 days on the road, I’m more than ready to go home. Everything seems like a chore, and I might become the tiniest bit whiny. I realize this about myself, and try really hard to trucker up, but some days are just poop.

I lost my will to live and my left sock in Mobile, Ala., last week. It had been a long night, I couldn’t sleep, and when George got up to drive at 5 a.m., I was less than sparkly. As usual, he was extremely patient with me.

“Do you want coffee?”

“No.”

“Something to drink?”

“No.”