A couple weeks ago, I went on my first business trip. ATI hosted the Nurse Educator Summit at a beautiful resort in sunny Orlando, Florida. We anticipated my trip for weeks and recruited Grandpa Carlson to come and help with things on the home front while I was away.
As a busy mother of three young children, I dreamt of exotic things like early bedtimes, relaxing afternoons, uninterrupted toileting and bathtime, not arguing about whose turn it was to pick a restaurant, and being able to watch whatever I wanted on TV when I was away. This was my first trip without either Brandon or the children along since before we were married. I knew I would miss them terribly, but looked forward to some "me" time.
I arrived at the hotel on Tuesday afternoon. This is the view I had out my window. I was looking out over the hotel pool/giant lazy river in front of a beautiful golf course...and, of course, lots and lots of sunshine and palm trees:
It was a great conference with wonderful speakers, educational sessions, and fellowship with colleagues.
What you can't see from the picture above is that I could see Disney's Hollywood Studios themepark out my window as well. As you may know, Disney holds special memories for me. Mom took us in highschool, and Brandon and I went there early in our marriage. We have been with the kids three times, each time symbolic of a new phase of life (first trip for Connor and Kylee, healing after Caden, Hadley's first trip/travelling with family). The magical world holds a special place in my heart. Everytime I glanced out the window, I could think of nothing other than my family....and how badly I missed them. In the evenings, the hotel would play Disney movies on a big screen out by the pool...little ones would sit in their innertubes and bob up and down in the pool while watching the flick. I was homesick.
I held it together through Days 1 and 2. While the scenery was gorgeous, I must say that business travel isn't all it's cracked up to be. I woke up early each morning to work a bit before attending sessions, and days were filled with education, networking, and mediocre food. Nightime found me trying to catch up on work that had accumulated during the day, Skyping with the kids (the highlight), and then falling into bed exhausted. By Day 3, I was nothing short of a mess. One of my colleagues suggested that we go to Downtown Disney for dinner as a fun way to end the trip. As the day went on, I was filled with mixed feelings...it felt somehow wrong to be anywhere even closely related to Disney without my family with me. But, I tried to look at the bright side and went out. I took two steps onto Downtown Disney property and with one look at the huge Disney store, I had a total meltdown. I called Brandon and blubbered on the phone for a few minutes about how much I missed he and the kids...and how ready I was to be back home. He listened patiently, offered some encouragement, and provided me with the Band-Aid that I needed to make it through my last night there. I couldn't believe what a mess I was. I am the woman who fearlessly travelled through Europe for five months in college...and was now reduced to a puddle in front of the Disney store in Orlando, Florida.
It was in that moment that I had a huge realization...that I am nothing apart from the people that I love most in this world. While it is great to have a professional identity, and while I am so blessed to have opportunities such as these, they are meaningless without my family beside me. Uninterrupted toileting and bathing, reading, TV, and sleeping in a bed by myself, while fun for a minute, are over-rated (I can't believe I'm even typing this!). Those little interruptions are woven into the fabric of my being. I'm rather lost without them.
The crowning moment of my trip was not the palm trees nor the sunshine, but rather, seeing my blue minivan pulling up to the curb as I stood outside KCI after my flight back home had landed. I hugged my husband and pulled open the door to find three beautiful faces smiling up at me.
Home feels so very, very good.