The right wing of our plane bobbed heavily in the wind, cutting through the cold Alberta sky and gliding over an endless ocean of cloud cover. Somewhere out there, down below, was my wife and two-year-old son at home in Canmore. I could picture her pulling him around the backyard in a toboggan with our next-door neighbour’s kids, rosy cheeks, laughing, crying and then heading inside for a cup of hot chocolate and grilled cheese sandwiches. I missed them already.
I sat alone at a window seat in a stuffy cabin, row 25, with an overly attentive f light attendant. I was looking at roughly 20 hours of travel time. My first stop was Houston, Texas, my next stop was Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. As I stepped off the plane…