I am on a plane. Well, presently, I’m writing a blog at my dining room table. But by the time it’s posted, I’ll be up in the air, and I even bought a new iPad for the occasion. Technically, it is mine, but it’s already loaded with kids apps and once the plane takes off, I’ll be handing it—and a lollipop—over to Scarlett. Maybe this won’t make me sound like the greatest parent, but at this point, I have very few rules for air travel. She’s never allowed to kick the seat in front of her, but if she wants to watch Dora the Explorer for 3.5 hours while we cross the country, it’s fine by me. Pretty much anything that keeps her from rolling around on the floor and licking Enterovirus D68 off of her seatbelt is fine by me.

I am cautiously optimistic about the flight. Now that I’m wheelchair bound, people do make things easy for me. We skip lines and board first (although, is that really a perk? I always used to enjoy arriving at the last minute and spending as little time as possible in the airport and on the plane.)

But it hardly matters; the flight is just a means to an end. I am so looking forward to the purpose for the trip. My beautiful niece is getting married in Lexington, Kentucky. Rob will be giving her away, a place of honor that he is filling on behalf of his older brother, John, who passed away last year. Scarlett will be the flower girl.

It will be a bittersweet weekend in some ways. We will all feel incredible excitement and happiness for the newlyweds. And we will all feel that John should have been there. There will be more tears, perhaps, than you normally see at a wedding. But I know the prevailing mood this weekend will be celebratory. This is how life works. It does go on, even though there are points at which you can’t imagine how it could.

Because I only saw my brother-in-law once or twice a year, I still feel like he’s there, at his house in Indiana, with his wife who he adored, just enjoying life the way he always did. I can hear his voice, and his laugh. I believe I can picture what his proud, solemn face would look like as he watched his daughter get married to a fantastic man.

Annnndddd…I think I’m ready for some bourbon.

While the family parties in the Bluegrass State, our amazing team #Speed4Sarah will be taking their places in Napa Valley at the 2014 Ride to Defeat ALS. We are once again The Top Fundraising Team, thanks to the efforts of my incredible friends and family. At the time of this writing, our 38 team members have raised more than $83,000.

It is remarkable to me how people can come together, in times of difficulty and in times of joy. Though I read the news and find myself thinking cynically about the world, on a smaller scale in the places I inhabit, I see people stepping up all the time. I’m grateful to everyone who has donated to our team, or to any ALS organization, or to ANY organization at all that they feel strongly about. I’m grateful to the people who have reached out with kind and encouraging words. I’m grateful to the makers of antibacterial hand soap.

There are a lot of things I wish for as I think about this coming weekend. First there’s the truly wishful thinking: I wish John could be with us. I wish I could walk down the airplane aisle and take my seat. I wish we were flying Virgin America with their wonderful little TVs and tiny hummus plates.

But I’ll focus on the things that are actually possible, and here they are: I wish our riders—and all the riders—a safe and gorgeous journey cycling through wine country. I wish Danielle and Chris a fun and stress-free weekend surrounded by love and support. And I wish that when I get my new iPad back, it isn’t covered in lollipop.

Onward.

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