Today, I shed some tears in the San Antonio airport very unexpectedly.
On November 10, I was in SAT waiting to go home after what was 26 days out of 31 traveling. I was supposed to have two weeks at home, I was so grateful.
On November 14, I looked towards my kitchen from my bathroom and suddenly couldn’t move. After a month on bed and house (ar)rest, I had surgery. And since then I have been recovering a bit at a time, today being the first time I flew again.
While walking through the airport, I had a mini flash of life. In three months, I have come a long way. In my desire to be optimistic, I often slide past the hard stuff. This has been difficult. But now, I am through the worst. I am grateful.