While flying from Houston to New York I saw farmlands, mountains, rivers and imagined meetings in the city behind my eyelids. When I awoke, millions of lights peppered the horizon line and Amos Lee crooned in my ear buds about “better days.” My Boeing 757 shook me to reality with turbulence at 37,000 feet and baby boy fussed above the sound of the pressurized cabin. Just thirty minutes stands between the big city and my feet. And those same thirty minutes will bring the tender embrace of my daddy.
I can’t wait.