Last week I found myself in Florida at a client meeting. I packed up my overnight bag and kissed hubby goodbye.
I landed in Florida in time to see the sun set over the ocean.
30 hours later I was back home watching the end of Conan and wondering how long I could snooze on the couch until hubby collected me for bed.
For someone who spent the last four years sequestered to the living room, Samantha’s bedroom or Children’s Hospital, I find it quite odd that I can wake up to snow on the ground and four hours later comment that Florida is definitely too hot for a sweater dress.
It is all so seamless…..a toothbrush and a pair of underwear and poof!! you are 1,600 miles away from home.
We went on two trips when Samantha was alive; one to visit hubby’s parents. The other was when hubby’s dad passed away. They were both BIG deals, requiring days of planning, formula, oxygen, letters from doctors, special seating and a gallon jug of Purel. We were about as seamless as a rhinoceros in a smart car.
And people complain about a pat down.
Last week everything fit into my little overnight bag.
And yes, note to self……Florida is way too hot for a sweater dress.