In one of my favorite comic strip punchlines, grandpa says defensively "I don't wallow in self-pity... I just stick my feet in and splash around a bit."
A friend commented on FB that he wants to fly. I agree. I want to fly. I want to finish flying home and be there when my son wakes up and it's his birthday. I don't much want to be alternating between sitting on the radiator or the floor of the La Guardia ticketing terminal waiting for the next flight after the rain canceled so many flights tonight. I want to be home like I promised I would be.
Instead, I'll get the pleasure of reenacting my triumphal return from Denver in January when Hyrum came to pick me up from the airport and I got to watch his face erupt into uncontrollable joy to see his friend Luigi home. It will have to do.
Happy birthday, son. I'll be home soon.