Today, John and I left for St. Thomas USVI for a five day stay. John found a medical conference here, and while I’m sure he’ll find the information that he learns fascinating, we’re really here for the scuba diving!
We are also here, celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary! 22 years! It hardly seems possible considering we still work on our relationship and occasionally don’t see eye to eye. When we first got married, I thought, for sure, that we would have these things worked out by now However, we have both learned that marriage is work—it takes lots of work to keep marriage fresh and fun (and flirty—that’s for you, Johannah). With that, it’s been the happiest 22 years of my life, and I feel blessed to think back on the time when John first called me on the phone to get to know me.
One thing I quickly learned about John when we were dating is that he doesn’t like to travel. You may think I’m completely mistaken, but let me clarify. John loves going new places with me, and we have seen a lot of geography in our 22 years. In fact, I think we would list traveling as our favorite hobby. However, he doesn’t like the actual time it takes to get where we want to be.
John doesn’t like driving long distances. In fact, he doesn’t even like driving to the church to pick up the kids. He hates long airplane flights, and who can blame him with those stalks for legs? He hates airports and…
Waiting.
John hates to wait. Being the go-getter he is, his life is spent in constant movement. Running marathons, taking the stairs at the hospital (seven flights at times), working on our land, meetings, catching the babies. He never stops except to pray, and to watch TV, and even then, his leg is bouncing, or he's fidgeting.
I’m thankful that John moves. He gets me moving, and he gets the kids moving, and I think we’ve seen the world because of it.
So, we left State College for Reagan International Airport after we put Glo on the school bus. It was a 3 hour drive. Our flight to Miami was almost 3 hours with a 3 hour layover. The flight to St. Thomas was supposed to be 3 hours long, but 5 minutes before we were supposed to land, the runway lights went out at the St. Thomas airport. I know, what the heck??? So ghetto! We then circled for almost an hour and a half, waiting for the lights to be repaired, and at the last minute, headed to land in San Juan, Puerto Rico. As the pilot turned the plane, he came back on the overhead, telling us that the lights had just been fixed and we could actually land in St. Thomas. Hooray!
John was entering Crazyland with all this waiting, and sitting, and circling. He played his Castlevania game on his Nintendo DS until the power died. Then, he moved to his phone to play some crazy zombie game until it also died. He read for a while, he grabbed some of my magazines, and he tried to sleep. At one point, while circling, he said he was going to start running up and down the aisle of the airplane. We used to have crying babies as an excuse to do that, but now he would just look like a crazy person
Because there are only a couple of flights into St. Thomas each day, a large number of the passengers from our flight were headed to our resort for the conference also. So, when we pulled in at 11 p.m., the line began forming for check-in. John ushered me into the line while he got the bags. Good thing too because there were probably 50 people in the line by the end, and things were moving slowly.
Even when we finally arrived in our gorgeous room with plush bed (you would have approved, Markie-Boy), I collapsed on the bed. 16 hours of travel time had wiped me out. John? He didn’t feel tired at all, and was contemplating going to the fitness center. He needed to MOVE!
Thankfully, I convinced him that it was time for bed, and I’m glad I did. We have a stellar first day of diving planned for tomorrow. Maybe by the time we get back on the plane to head home, he’ll have done enough here to handle the stress of waiting, and sitting, and not moving.
Knowing John though, after 22 years of traveling with him, probably not.
Oh my gosh I was laughing the whole way through this! It's so true! Just like me, Papa just needs to move all the time. I also am reminded of those times on trips when we're all dying of exhaustion, with our legs on fire and our feet starting to wear through our shoes, and Daddy always walking way ahead shouting" "C'mon guys, let's go!" Haha Daddy is most certainly a mover, and thank goodness he is!(: It makes him an awesome Papa!
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