thinking back

I'm running away this weekend to the East Coast-- friends, family, and ShakeShack await.  I'm having issues trying to print my parking confirmation.  I hate LAX.  I hate flying.  Ugh.  Last time I did this flight, I didn't have to worry about the transportation logistics for this terrible red-eye.

He came to pick me up after work.  I threw my carry-on in the trunk and looked a hot-mess in my most-homeless, anticipating a sleepless overnight flight.




"I picked up something for you."  I look over, and realize he had gotten me a sandwich from the Cuban bakery down the road, and even ordered it in the same picky way (no tomatoes, etc etc).  And my favorite pastries.  And an entire box of cupcakes for my family.  This was beyond thoughtful, way more than I had ever expected.

We pulled over off the freeway so I could cram this tupperware of deliciousness between the layers of sweaters and jeans.

"Have a safe flight.  Don't forget that I'll be here to pick you up when you land."

And he was.  Just like he promised.  Even though I was delayed 7 hours and didn't land until the early morning hours.



Maybe I was too late.  He seemed to be really trying.  To want this.


How quickly the story changes.  By the end, I'm not sure I could have tried any harder.  Been more accommodating to his schedule and his life.

But it didn't seem to be enough.