I won't lie, I love the smell of jet fuel. It excites a sense of adventure in me. I have always loved traveling, plane, train, car or boat, sign me up! And today the smell of jet fuel, ushers in the excitement of going home. I recently had an opportunity to earn some extra money working nights for a short time in Anchorage, and here I sit waiting to board my flight home.
Travel, these days, also means leaving my family home. So for the last week I have felt- incomplete. Every little girl, every babies cry, reminded me of home. I saw my children, in everyone else's.
I appreciate the chance to catch up with my Dad and Brother while stuck up here. I have eaten food that my little Homer doesn't offer, and I have re-discovered the roads of my youth.
And the entire time I've been gone, I've longed for the scent of jet fuel, the incense of my departure. I will miss my mountains, the star over Arctic Valley, good restaurants, and stores open 24hrs. But I will soon be boarding a small plane, flying to the end of the highway, and meeting a toddling girl, and teething little boy, clutching their mother, and making me whole again. Thank you Jet Fuel, for getting me home.