Flying Solo...Literally

A few weeks ago, I flew to London to visit my good friend Jane who lives in England. I had flown there alone quite a few times, when I was in my 20s, but the last three times I had gone, I went with Bobby.

While I was waiting in the airport, I thought to myself, "This is just like when I went to visit Jane in the 80s." However, once I was on the plane, it was not like that at all. I felt so alone. I didn't have Bobby to lean on when I was tired, or to talk to when I got bored. He was not there to make fun of the substance that they try to pass off as food.

Traveling alone never bothered me before, so why did this bother me so much now? Because back then, I was single. I was not attached to anyone - I hadn't met my "soul mate" yet. I have now discovered that after I've had the experience of meeting him, and being in a wonderful relationship and marriage, it bothers me to travel alone.

Because I'm not single. I'm a widow. And there's a difference.