I left home again yesterday. I do this every month. Leaving I
mean. And thankfully, it doesn't get any
easier. I've had this job for over 15
years now, and this particular part of it for three. Over the past three years I leave the first of
every month and I'm gone for two weeks. Away from my wife, kids, friends,
family and everything else from back home. While I'm away, I'm very busy. There
are early days and late nights and long hours. But, when I sit down to think
about it, I'm grateful for that. You see, when I'm busy it's harder to be
homesick. You'd think after all this time that I wouldn't get home sick, but
you'd be wrong. It's always nice to enjoy Sunday relaxing in the hotel, but
those are also the days when I get the bluest. If not for a phone call the
home, I could go the entire day and never make a sound. Conversely though, if
not for that phone call home, I could go in entire day and never hear a sound.
Never hear the sound of my wonderful wife's voice. Never hear my children. I
love my job. I mean, I really do. I love dealing with people, being on the
road, seeing new places, and everything else that is involved in my job.
However, being on the road and being away from my family are two different
things. I tell people that all the time. If traveling wasn't two weeks at a
time, the way used to be, I’d love this job even more. Maybe someday. Maybe. Someday.
Until that day arrives though, this is reality. Two weeks away, two weeks at
home, two weeks away, etc. Saying goodbye
to the family never gets easy no matter how often I do it. And I pray it never
does!
