I just got home from driving Jon to the Albany Airport. Leaving him on the sidewalk outside the building made me think of the first time I drove him to the airport 7 or 8 years ago. We we friends, and I was being paid by Random House to drive Jon to local book events and drop him off and pick him up at the airport. That first time I did, I felt like I was taking my kid to his first day of school. I don’t know why, I guess he seemed so alone to me and I felt protective of him.
This time was different, for all the reasons Jon wrote so beautifully about his on his blog this afternoon. And because the sadness I felt was just the normal sadness of missing someone you love. I didn’t cry all the way home, like I did the book tour after my divorce. I thought of our kisses goodbye and of how good it would be in three days when I drive back to the airport to pick Jon up and bring him home. I’ll be like those people I like to watch when I’m waiting for Jon to walk out of the terminal. The ones whose face suddenly breaks out into a big grin and they move slowly forward arms wide open waiting for their boyfriend or daughter or grandmother to walk into their waiting hug. Joy overcoming the weariness of travel. Love reunited.