Friday, May 8, 2009

Daddy's at the airpot

I didn't realize how deep that pocket was in my bag. Down at the very bottom of it was my mp3 player. that's nice.

Matthew came to see me off but fell asleep in the car. So we loaded the bags, checked in, and Leeta sent me on my way. Then he wakes up on the way out of the airport and wonders where I am. Leeta tells him I am at the airport. He wants to go with me. Sweet, huh? Well, may not be so sweet after he asks 10-12 times a day.

I wondeer how it will affect him years from now in counselling when he delves deep into his psyche and deals with the fact that his dead left home for three weeks to quit being a pastor and work at the Lubbock Internaitonal Airport.

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3 Comments:

Blogger RobeFRe said...

Well

hopefully he will realize you are NOT 'dead', but Dad, gone for a while--which will naturally seem forever to someone so near the starting gate!

May 8, 2009 at 12:25 PM  
Blogger RobeFRe said...

What fun and memories of my own father's travels to Mexico, Ecuador, Venezuela, Costa Rica, Panama, Guatemala, Argentina, Hawaii, South Africa, Switzerland, Hungary, Yugoslavia and of course London and Paris.

He always came back!

May 8, 2009 at 12:33 PM  
Anonymous Leigh said...

I asked him this morning if you flew on an airplane and he said no you were at the airport.Then he just said you were at home.I hope you are having a great time!
Leigh

May 10, 2009 at 11:00 PM  

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