Another flight east! Has it been two months? Were the life cycle events of last fall that long ago?

Looking out the window, staring at an iced runway, my mind taxied across the recent past.

…It was the night of the Pidyan Haben and I was saying goodbye to Max. Tugging his right toes with my left hand, I softly kissed his forehead…twice. One for him, I thought silently, and one for Haley.

…It was the morning of New Years—the wee hours, to be exact. Midnight to 3AM. Heading back from Columbus, retrieving voice mails, I was listening:

“Happy New Year! Max misses you!” said one “When you coming to New York?”
“Happy New Year! We miss you,“ said another. “When you coming to Chicago?”
“Hey Dad, just called to wish you Happy New Year.  Love you.”

My kids are getting their wish, to be sure. The infant year is already good. Today, flying east to share kinship with those that care to, it gets even better.

He is growing, they tell me. (I’ll be there soon). She is healthy, I’m told, and am grateful.

“Can I see Haley?” I asked.
“It’s not that simple, Dad.”
“Yes it is,” I noted, “It really is.”

Love IS simple. Strikes me that anger and resentment are complicated.

The agenda this weekend is family—no more, no less. In a few hours I’ll land at LaGuardia, shoot down Northern Blvd, and go for the gusto. Pulling up to the apartment, scurrying inside, I’ll lean over the baby and gently touch my lips to his forehead…twice.

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