Going Home again, Pt.1Early in the morning, one week before Thanksgiving, we left the Seattle airport to do something I had long given up the hope of doing: taking the family I had built to meet my family of origin. I was a bit nervous about flying cross country with three young children; not nervous about the things so many worry about, like plane crash or terrorist attack, but the realsitic fears that one of my darlings would scream the whole way or throw up on another passenger. We were fortunate that, after a layover in Cincinnati and roughly nine hours of travel, the kids kept it together and were in good spirits when we touched down in a tiny Central Pennsylvanis airport. As we entereed the terminal, I saw my aunt, my cousin, and my 88 year old grandmother through the glass window. Herding little ones before me, I brought my familt together.
(to be continued...)