For the last few years, so much of my life has been tied to airport arrivals and departures. Either I’m perpetually in transit, straddling my cross-time-zone existence, or someone I love is the one doing the hopping.
It’s tiring, for sure. And now I have a new split, dividing my life and my relationships in a new way and across a different (though familiar) time zone.
But then I realized what this divided life gives me. Because I am neither here nor there, here then there, I have come to know so many things. Mermaids in Weeki-Wachee. Touch-screen ordering at Sheetz. Amish shoppers parking their buggies at County Market. The sound of lion roars echoing down
from Cheyenne Mountain Zoo. Plains and mountains; oil and chips on country roads; great snarls of traffic funneled through startlingly narrow bridges. The elegant silhouette of the Sagamore; the sponge divers of Tarpon Springs. The Gateway Arch; cannoli in the North End.
It’s a life full of departures—but full nonetheless. And now, blogging from my phone, it’s time to power down for another takeoff.
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