I've spent much time in my life pondering deeper mysteries. Every time I've come away finding nothing; or, as Hemingway would have said it, "nada". But still I felt plagued by a sense that something more profound remained hidden from me. There is a journal I keep filled with thoughts and explorations about myself and the world around me. Most journal entries are made during business trips, when I find companionship in writing. Now, on this trip, I no longer feel the need to explore my thoughts. They are simple, pure and reach deep into the marrow of my bones.
I miss my wife. I miss my babies. I want to be home with them.