Leaving on a jet plane, etc
I’m a morning person, José isn’t.
For the entirety of our relationship this has been a hilarious fact that normally leads to adorable hijinks. We have a 4 am lobby call. I’m up and ready to discuss deep emotional matters. José can’t find his socks. Etc.
This predilection for early hours didn’t help me in 2020, though, as we waited on various key news updates. Seemingly every day I’d wake up much earlier than jj, attempt to resist the urge to check my phone, fail, see the same “no” news, sit in bed for a long time, then defeatedly let José know “no, we didn’t get it,” when he finally woke up.
The news never came in the morning. Man, did I hate that about 2020.
The first big piece of news, eight months in, was our visa. We finally found out we were approved in the middle of the first snowstorm in New York. José was shoveling, I ran out with no shoes.
Despite its chaos (no feet were harmed in the making!), I’m grateful that my mom caught the moment on film.
This morning was the same. Because of the date of our departure and a need for a timely negative PCR test, there was just no way to not have our exit come down to a nailbiter. So today, on our last day in America, I woke up, checked, no answers, let José know, went to start my morning.
I honestly thought we’d leave tomorrow. I was completely unprepared for a few hours later when he ended up finding out the news.
Good thing he checked his email. Here we are, my loves. Leaving on a jetplane, in about four hours.
When I was a kid, our family was more or less evenly divided between California and Israel. Once or so a year, the whole family would pile onto a plane with multiple bags and layovers to see them.
But a few magnificent times, I remember flying as an unaccompanied minor.
It was the absolute best. I’ll never forget the feeling. You met the pilot. You got infinite candy. You got infinite soda. You got a pin, I think?! With wings?! Can I be a kid again so that that’s all I need?!
In any event, I don’t know what the adult equivalent is, but I’m excited to be a somewhat accompanied major getting on this plane. Before marrying my illustrious husband, I galavanted for years in Amsterdamia-n cheese shops like the below.
Baby t up there, on her first visit to Europe. Dating the wrong guy, but looking real pretty in that skirt. I feel like I want to grab her out of that picture and save her the terrible four years she’s going to have with him (talk about unaccompanied minors!), but I’m also grateful for those years that got us to where we are.
It’s January 3rd, it’s Sunday, and we all made it here. See you next week, with some European updates!
With infinite love,