Newark Airport
This very short post is about being back at Newark Airport, en route to Nashville. Prior to leaving my job in May, EWR had been a central part of my life for the previous several years.
We drove down out of the Beaverkill Valley at about 12:30pm. The trip to Newark was largely uneventful, except for the bad guidance given by the navigation system in my car. Having made that trip dozens of times before, I probably should have gone the way I know, but variety is the spice of life.
It is definitely strange to be at Newark Airport for the first time in several months. When I was still working, I flew out of and into this place with ridiculous frequency. Ironically, now that we are travelling full time, I haven’t been to (this) airport in a long while. It doesn’t appear to have changed much, but perhaps I have.
When I was working at McKinsey, and we were living in New Jersey, I could drive or take the train to most of my clients. I flew on average only about every other week.
When I left the Firm to take a corporate job, my office was first in St. Paul, Minnesota, and then in San Diego. Every Monday morning, week in and week out, I would kiss the sleeping family goodbye in a darkened house, drive the 45 minutes to Newark Airport, get on a plane, and be an absentee father and husband until Friday evening. On some special occasions I would leave a day later, or get back a day earlier.
This was no way to live, but somehow I talked myself into thinking it was OK (eg, “it’s only temporary”, “India and the kids are fine without me”, “I’m really not gone that much”, etc.)
Being at this airport brings back a flood of those memories, and makes me sad for what I have missed. Travelling this year as a family doesn’t make up for the years I was away, but it’s a start.