Last night I spotted this unusual situation: a girl on a Honda CBR waiting for someone at the "Arriving Flights" area of the main terminal at Orlando International Airport.
It made me smile and filled me with a sudden rush of fond nostalgia for those heady days in 2007 and 2008 when Trish would fly in from Indianapolis and I would pick her up from MCO on the Bandit at this very same exact spot. She would have her helmet and riding jacket with her on the airplane. She'd climb on the back and then we'd ride out to Geneva or over to Quest Air Hang Gliding.
It's good to be back in Florida. I'm indescribably, immeasurably glad that coming back from a trip now means coming Home (with a capital H) to Trish. "Going back" used to mean the end of a painfully short interval of togetherness. Now it means the end of a period of separation.
When we lived 1,000 miles apart, meeting up meant days or weeks of planning. It meant spending a lot of money. And it meant a frenzied attempt to maximize every second we were in the same Zip code. As exciting as that era in our lives was, I'm glad it's over. The ultimate luxury commodity, we've found, is being united geographically as the natural default option. All the resources we used to invest in achieving that can now be reallocated to other projects. (We call that the Togetherness Dividend.)