I spent from Saturday to Tuesday in Baltimore attending a conference of other non-profit Lukas. It was a time to share ideas, learn and network (a.k.a. drink at the bar).
M, E and I were to fly out on Tuesday, but due to the weather our flights were cancelled and this meant another night in Baltimore. Wednesday the weather was not improving, and with flights cancelled, we drove to Richmond, VA with hopes of a flight to Dallas and a connection to the Lou.
Valentine’s Day was not spent with L. E missed his pregnant wife and M her husband and two sons. Instead of a romantic dinner, I got bad decaf coffee at 10:45 on a flight to St. Louis.
At dinner in Richmond, I watched airport security pick up a serviceman holding an American flag on the tarmac. The security vehicle was followed by a baggage truck probably carrying the remains of a soldier.
On the flight to The Lou, I sat across from a man from D.C. who had been trying to get to St. Louis all day for his brother’s funeral the next day. In the process of catching whatever plane may get him there, he had been separated from a wife and grown child who may not arrive in St. Louis until after the funeral.
So, I had a bad day. I missed Valentine’s Day, lounged around airports, ate bad food and drank worse coffee. In the end, I get to go home. I will spent most of the weekend with L and hit the road again next week. But for one soldier, it was his/her final trip home, and one man will never share a joke with a brother. Why should I complain?