My family

This morning my son stood in the bathroom doorway with tears running down his face, tears caught in-between his caramel skin and his glasses. “What’s the matter?” I asked. He said, “I don’t want you to go,” and he burst into a sob. I laughed while holding back tears. I called upstairs to my husband - he had to see this. He asked Danny why he was crying. Danny explained himself again, then said to my husband, “You give me a headache.” I thought to myself, “Me too, baby.”

Later, I was on a flight to Arkansas. I remembered this morning. Tears welled in my eyes and I dabbed them with a napkin. I missed my family. How could that be? Miss my golf-crazed husband? Miss the talkative, I-don’t-want-to-do-the-dishes teenager? Miss the son whom I call 100 times before he answers? At last, a moment of breathing space, especially for me, and all I can do is think about them?