NORMAN — Two things about me that I don’t enjoy. First is getting up early in the morning. I really don’t think the day should start until the sun is fully up. If one of the most powerful things in the universe is still asleep, I think that gives me the right to keep on snoozing, too.
The second thing I’m not very fond of is saying goodbye. Usually saying goodbye means the end of fun. I like fun.
So, this week when I had to combine both of the things I hate the most, not only once but twice, I would chalk the week up as one sad event after another.
A week ago today, I had to not only get up at 6 a.m., I also had to drive my brother and niece to the airport for them to go back home after a two week visit. Airport goodbyes quite possibly might be the worst ones. I usually cry and then I usually get stares. I know I’m not the first to cry in an airport, but every time I tell myself that this time I’m going to be strong. This time I’m going to hold myself together, at least until I get back in the car. Well, I’m here to say that this time wasn’t this time. I cried at the curbside drop off. I cried leaving the airport parking lot. I even cried when I got home and crawled back into bed to sleep off my sadness.
My second tearful good-bye this week allowed me to sleep in until 7 a.m. and didn’t require a long commute. I just had to stand in my dinning room and hug a new friend as she went on her next journey.