When we lived along the Hudson
And worked the Great White Way
We’d travel to Ohio
To spend a single day
We’d go to Newark Airport
Or drive the Keystone Pike
A trip I’d recommend to you
For people you don’t like
The journey to the airport
Through slush and sleet was trying
With more time on the roadway
Than we would spend in flying
We’d wait in line for boarding
Get stepped upon and shoved
Now, why would we go through this?
To see the folks we loved
To hug them and to hold them
To share a festive meal
To let them know without a doubt
The gratitude we feel
This annual migration is
A worthwhile endeavor
Knowing in our heart of hearts
We don’t have them forever
So when I see the stories
And start to wonder why
This weekend is the weekend
When record numbers fly
Seeing all the struggles
In all this to and froing
I thank God that it isn’t me–
But wish that I were going