Recently, I flew from my home in Florida and met my father in Washington D.C. to begin promoting his new book. I have three brothers, two of who left D.C. years ago and now reside on the west coast, and one brother, Geoff, who still lives in the D.C. area. This was a great reunion with him and we had a busy week planned.
We kicked off our week with a slew of meetings, starting with breakfast and ending late into the night. It was not unusual for the house to be stirring around 5:30 a.m. I had forgotten about the traffic in Washington, and believe me, I do not miss it one bit. Our first meeting was at 8 a.m. and Geoff said that in order to be at our breakfast meeting on time, we must depart his home no later than 6:45 a.m.
As we all gathered into the kitchen on the very first morning before departing, I could tell that Dad was back in his element; this was his town. He had thrived and blossomed for more than three decades, navigating his way through the hustle and bustle of D.C.
This particular morning was no different, he was beaming with excitement to hear the horns and stop and go of traffic, listen to the news reports on the radio, and to smell the political air of our nation’s capital.
As the week came to an end, there was no doubt we were all exhausted. D.C. was where I was born and raised and it will always be somewhat home for me. We drove to the airport on Friday morning and the three of us talked and laughed about what a week it was.
By now, the traffic had become common place to me once again. As we pulled into Reagan National Airport, Geoff stopped the car and let us out at our gate. We grabbed our bags and gave each other big hugs followed by “I love you’s.” It was a great trip, in a great city, spent with my amazing family.