Fly girl

In 2004, I boarded my first plane. I was nervous, not only for the flight but for the adventure upon which I was about to embark.

I remember listening intently to all the safety procedures that the stewardesses presented. I took a deep breath and held on tight. Away we went! Landing was a nerve wracking experience, but it went fine and I soon found myself standing, for the first time, in the Nashville International Airport.

I had traveled to Nashville to spend my first trip far away from my parents. It was a week with a friend — one that I had absolutely no clue would end up being my husband three years later in a city I hoped to some day live. I ended up having a good time, though stresses surrounding my presence left me on the couch much of the time with an upset stomach and migraine headache. I succeeded, nonetheless, in experiencing many of the highlights of Nashville, and I left the city a week later feeling smarter and glad I’d made the trip.

It would be over a year before I’d fly again, but since then I’ve logged thousands of air miles. Every single one of them due to my husband. Trips to Nashville to visit as our relationship changed and grew. Then trips to Portland, Oregon; Las Vegas, Nevada; Atlanta, Georgia; Jackson, Mississippi; and Honolulu, Hawaii… all with (or to be with) my traveling musician. I’m an airplane professional!

Today, I fly to visit my family back home in Texas. I continue to log the miles constantly, and the tales of my travels seem to always have an amusing angle to them. Everything from flying to point A and renting a car to continue to point B, to spending hours and hours in an airport waiting for a delayed flight.

My latest two flights both consisted of seeing my husband off… behind security.

This last trip back home occured only an hour before my husband caught a plane himself to a show. We ended up going through security together, kissing good bye, and then walking to opposite terminals to catch planes going to completely opposite ends of the country. The time before, I landed back in Nashville only a few hours before he took off for a show. He drove our truck to the airport, and as I kissed him hello and goodbye, he handed me the keys to drive it back home!

Being married to a musician always guarantees that things will not be boring. I rarely go with him on the road, but I do try to go any time I can. It’s allowed me to see placed I’d have probably never seen otherwise. Three years ago, I was terrified to fly. Today, it’s as natural as walking. I look forward to our next adventure!

An interesting phenomenon

I will be leaving our apartment in about 20 minutes to go pick up my husband from the airport. I am sitting here pretty much twiddling my thumbs. Supper will be ready to take out of the oven (or rather just place on “warm” until we get home) in the next 5 minutes. So, that will leave me about 15 minutes to kill.

I assure you that as it gets closer and closer to time to leave, everything will start working against me, and I’ll be late to pick him up.

It NEVER fails. Time to kill until I go pick him up at the airport or the bus lot. Then I still end up being late. Thank God my husband is patient with my incessant talent for being late or early… never right on time.

Alone and sick

A downside of being a musician’s widow: home alone and sick.

Nashville being ranked 16th highest city for allergies, it stands to reason that my usual Spring allergy outbreak would be worse than normal. I’m miserable and taking care of myself. My husband took off on the road for the weekend, and I kissed him good bye at the airport with a sneeze and a sniffle.

Now, it is kind of nice to be able to sleep on the couch all day drugged up and not feel too bad about not taking care of your spouse since they are off doing what they need to do. But at the same time, it would be really nice to be babied while sick.

At least its not the first time I’ve battled allergies, and I know it won’t be the last. And… at least its just allergies and not something like the flu. I will survive!