I Would Walk 500 Miles

I’m 500 miles and two days away from my daughter.

When I first traveled for work, leaving Story behind, I was full of excitement (I get the bed and television to myself!), confidence (I’m a successful woman whose talents are needed beyond the walls of our little yellow house!), and craving (I want to learn all I can from this experience!). Now, I just want to be home. I feel like a child at camp, homesick amidst all the fun to be had around me. If Story could read, I’d write her a letter.

Thank you for giving me this opportunity for new experiences and growth as a professional. It is because of you that I’m here. You see, I want you to be proud of me. I want to show you that I can face my fears and take on uncomfortable challenges and win. And fail. And learn from that failure to become better. I want you to know that there is a world out there, a big one, that you should take every opportunity to explore. I want you to know that you are not going to be great at everything but you should try everything. I know that you learn more from watching me than listening to me, so I’m here, 500 miles away from you.
But I’m 500 miles away from you! You don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m succeeding, how I’m failing, whether I’m taking chances or hiding, whether I’m exploring or sleeping. You know that I flew out on an airplane. You know I’m staying in a hotel. You know I’m working. And you know I’m not there, in our little yellow house, snuggling on the recliner, telling stories and giving butterfly kisses.
So, this time, I’m going to bring you more than a present. I’m going to bring you my tales of travel so that you might know my motives and perhaps think of them the next time.
I’m only 500 miles and two days away!

(Though I’ll probably leave out the part about the Furry Convention in town. There are some things I’m not ready to explain to my six-year-old.)