Traveling

I remember when traveling felt simple. I didn’t need a medical bag—just myself, a ticket, and time to spare. I would stand and wait, watching people, smiling at their laughter. I’ve always loved that—quietly sharing in the joy around me.

Now it’s different. The bright LED lights, the constant motion—it all feels overwhelming, like too much at once. My head starts to ache, and even sounds can become difficult to sort through.

Sometimes I drift back to my very first flight, when I was young, traveling to Tennessee to visit my sister. Flying felt special then. People dressed up for it—no tennis shoes or flip-flops, just pressed clothes and polished shoes. It was like everyone was wearing their Sunday best, as if the journey itself mattered.

Today, I’m traveling to see a doctor. Because of flight costs, we’ll be staying a little longer this time.

Oh well.

Wishing you a wonderful day.