I'm sitting in the lobby of a motel in Cedar City, 250 miles from home.
It's late, I'm tired and lonely as I've been in a long time.
I'm not cut out for this solo traveling thing. I miss my family, and wish I were home tonight.
Whenever I go away on my own, which isn't frequently, I always look forward to it. I enjoy going places, I enjoy long drives and I occasionally crave solitude. But in the late hours, when I sit alone, it never fails, I only want to be home. It's hard to go to sleep without a hug.
It's hard to end my day without the soft kiss on my cheek, and the whisper of "Goodnight Daddy" in my ear.
It's hard to not get the World Cup update from my son, as I watch his eyes light up like a birthday cake.
It's hard to sleep in a bed alone -- I left that life behind long ago.
As I sat on a quiet bench in a serene and beautiful place today, and thought about my family, I started to cry.
I'll see them all tomorrow, but what brought the tears was thinking about how heartbroken I would be if I never did. If I never held Sharon's hand again, or watched as Jordan blossomed into a beautiful young woman, or played catch with Matt or listened to Emma convince me, for the hundredth time, that she is the smartest person on earth, my life would be no life at all.
If you're reading this Sharon, I love you. If the kids are asleep, please look in on them for me. Take in the beauty of the three miracles we have created, and know that I am thinking of them too. And you...
When canyons were mountains and oceans were raindrops, I loved you. When the stars blink out of existence, I'll still love you.
I love you with all my heart, and I always have.