The Night Before I Leave to Barcelona

The night before I leave always feels a little different.

The bags are packed.
Passports checked.
Everything ready.

But my mind isn’t fully on the trip.

I know i'm needed here.
But i also know i can't let her make this trip alone.

I trust she'll be fine.
But i still feel better being there with her.

The kids are going about their usual routine.

Talking. Laughing. School. Enrichment classes.

Nothing feels different to them.

But to me,
it feels like I’m about to miss a few days of it.

The small things.

The morning rush.
The random conversations.
The familiar noise in the house.

I know it’s only a short trip.

They’ll be okay.
Escalation call list given them.
Everything will continue as usual with the help from family.

But as a parent,
you get used to being around and so involved.

And when you’re not,
you feel it.

Nights before feels quieter, even when it isn’t.

I find myself looking at them a bit more.

Listening a bit longer.

Staying a bit closer.

Not because anything is wrong.

Just because I know I’ll miss this.

Tomorrow,  I’ll board a plane.

But part of me will still be here.

Okay papa.

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