Thoughts From the Airport Floor

For days I have had a weight on me. A silly one, one that I could intellectualize my way through… but a weight nonetheless.

I have problems…. I know. The other week when Cory and I were reminiscing about Europe I said, “why do we even make memories anyway?” I wasn’t really serious. And I know it sounds ridiculous. But I just sometimes feel like we plan these amazing experiences, make these great memories, and then what do we have but a memory? A feeling that a time which you loved so much has passed. A feeling of panic that the poignancy of the grand memory will fade.

It’s silly, I know. Because what would life be if we didn’t go from memory to memory?

Today I had kind of a weird feeling of deja vu. Cory and I packed up our bags, closed up the house, printed off our boarding passes, checked fifteen times for our passports, said goodbye to the family, and headed off on an adventure.

Next week marks one year since we did all of those same things in preparation for our European tour. And today we went through the same motions. We parked our car at the same place, got on a bus, sat at the airport, and, feeling giddy with excitement, talked about all of the fun things we were going to do.

Oh life. What a crazy and wonderful thing it is. These are just the ramblings of a girl from the floor of an airport in the middle of the night. Really.... its a happy place to be.