I’ve traveled a lot in the past five years. With my late husband, Blair. Sometimes with a friend–or two. Sometimes alone. Since Jim and I married just ten months ago, we’ve traveled together. I like this way the best.

Here’s why it’s better:

In the airport, there’s luggage and bags to leave while you go to the restroom.

There’s a partner to hold your stuff while you get your pass, your ticket, your water, your food.

There’s someone else to spot the signs–gate numbers, street signs, restaurants.

Someone to hold your hand on take offs and landings.

It’s a whole new adventure to share with someone who loves you. Today, we used the metro in Washington DC for the third day and felt so very confident. We trundled our luggage onto the fast moving train, looked for the Amtrak signs and got in line. “There’s track 26 to New York.” I said to Jim. While waiting in line, I saw a young college student, a retired woman traveling to Connecticut, a Hasidic Jew with a large black hat and side curls. A tall African American who looked like he was a basketball player.

Seeing Washington DC for the third time has been even more meaningful. We viewed the actual Constitution, Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. We observed the US Navy’s celebration of their birthday–October 9–with a moving color guard, a fervent prayer, and a laying of a wreath for missing sailors who gave their lives for our country. We visited the Pentagon and the 9-11 Memorial. It was sobering to see the benches for each person–184–who died that terrible day. The benches were divided by the year each person was born. The dates ranged from 1930 to the youngest, 1998. It was humbling to see.

There was so much more….Now we’re on our way to New York City. I’m excited and a little nervous about visiting the Big Apple. But I won’t be alone. You see, I have my partner, my lover, my husband. I am grateful.