A Quick Trip

It has been a few days since my last posting and there’s a good reason for that.

I just got back into the big apple after a surprise trip home to see my family.

It was supposed to be a Gomer Pyle type of secret for the three kids with Surprise, Surprise, Surprise.

Unfortunately, the oldest two have big ears.

My son overheard my wife talking.   And my oldest daughter overheard her aunt talking.

But fortunately my six-year old daughter was totally blown away when she woke up from her car-ride nap, at the airport, staring at her dad.

That moment made it all worth it.

But there were plenty of other great moments as well.

Like the hug I got from my 13-year old girl, which was downright painful.

She squeezed so hard, she took my breath away.

Literally.

Just imagine if it was still a secret.

My time at home was just short of 57 hours, but this wasn’t about quantity.

This was all about quality.

And spending time together.

Watching TV, going to the park, playing video games, throwing the frisbee, drinking slurpees, getting the mail.

For a moment, it almost felt like I lived there.

We even got to go to the all-you-can-eat Chinese Buffet that the kids love so much.

The last time we were there, I got food poisoning.

This time, my six-year old got a stomach ache.

Things are getting better.

No wonder they love it.

It had been three long weeks since I had seen the family, but it had ONLY been three weeks.

Still, it has felt like forever.

I knew what the long distance runaround was doing to me, but I didn’t really understand what it was doing to them.

Especially my oldest child.

At 13, she’s at an age where she doesn’t always let me know how she is feeling.

Until now.

Between the initial rib-crushing hug, followed by a series of others that felt just like it, I could tell, she needed to see me.

We talked about school, about life, about me, about her.

We talked about something.   We talked about nothing.

But we talked.

A lot.

And it was great.

I’m certainly not suggesting that we didn’t talk before, but this was different.

I think she knew the clock was ticking on my time at home and she wanted to take advantage of every single second.

And so did I.

I made sure to visit my mother’s assisted living home to say hello.   I didn’t think surprising an 80-year old was a good idea, so I called ahead of time.

She couldn’t have been happier to see me.   

She wasn’t as happy to see me go.

The number one question on everybody’s list was, how is New York?   How is the job?   How are you doing?

Ok, that’s three.

I answered them all, as many times as they were asked, but I always tried to give the kids a little something extra about their new home.

We took a trip over the local Farmer’s Market, where we bought some kettle corn and honey roasted peanuts.

I told the kids that I bought some honey roasted peanuts last week on the corner of 42nd Street and 5th Avenue.

And across the street from that, I bought the best italian sausage in the city.

And down the street from there, I bought an authentic New York Pretzel.

I could tell from their reaction, I was speaking their language.

Can you tell that our family enjoys its food?

Honestly, I think they are very excited about the move.

But until we sell the house, nobody’s moving nowhere.

And that is the hard part.

For now, they just know New York as the place that stole their dad.

With every mention of Broadway or the Garlic Bread at Carmine’s or a ride on the Subway or a trip to Yankee Stadium, I can see their excitement level rise.

The challenge is keeping up that excitement until the move actually happens.

Or until I see them again.