Leavin' on a jet plane

In a few days, I leave for Europe again. Last year, I went to lovely Amsterdam; this year it is (I've heard it's lovely) Rome.

While it sounds a bit glamorous that my company sends me about the world from time to time, I find it rather grueling and my ole' man's body is not too keen on that whole jet lag thang.

Nonetheless, I am looking forward to the break. I've got H covered through a combination of family and friends. And, so I am free to travel half-way across the world.

This is the first time that I've had such diametrically-opposed feelings about leaving.

On one hand, I can't wait to get away from H and all the care that he entails. I need the break and I'll have a good time travelling with my team.

On the other hand, I am actually more worried about him than I have been in a long time. Not from an acute health issue, but from the continuing chronic decline. Over time, he just seems less and less "there" and less able to do even simple tasks.

But I am certain of this: when I get in the cab to the airport, my aching back and other body parts will stop aching. And, when the return cab drops me off at the driveway at home, those aches will return