So later this year, Marti’s got her 20th high school reunion. So as we were making a plan for plane tickets to head up to New Jersey for the shindig, something pulled at me from deep inside my brain.

As most of you know, we have three kids: Cameron & Jordan, 11, and Olivia, 6. I often get sad when I think of being away from the kids for an extended period of time, and this reunion takes us away for an entire weekend. They’ll be in great hands, so that’s not a problem. My dad is coming up from Tampa to stay here with them, so it’s the best situation for all of us. They’re sleeping in their own beds, staying with Papa, whom they love, etc…

I can hear what you’re thinking… “It’s only a weekend… Only three days, blah, blah… Go! Have fun! Enjoy 3 days without the kids!” I mean, that’s what I would tell a friend leaving for the weekend without their kids. But if it’s any indication, we had ONE night away from the kids to celebrate our 10th anniversary, and we couldn’t wait to pick them up. We missed them so badly. Pretty silly.

So as we’re booking plane tickets, something nagged at me. What if, God forbid, something were to happen to Marti and me, and the kids were left alone? That thought, as slight as it seemed, saddened me to the point where I spoke up to say that I thought we should fly on separate flights. It’s funny, because Marti must’ve been feeling the same thing because she didn’t give it a second thought, either. It reminds me of how I always heard that the Coca-Cola executives who had access to the secret formula for Coke never traveled together in case something tragic should happen to them while they were traveling and left no one behind that could ever access the formula.

So we’re flying out of Atlanta, about an hour or so apart. Just in case.