As I went through the airport security line, I could tell I moved too slowly, was too deliberate in my process … laptop in this bin, shoes in another, purse in this last one, wheelie suitcase in front and push.

The eyes of the woman behind me sent the message that I should be picking up the pace, but I felt a little distracted. Off balance, if you will. The two little, curly-headed blonde boys I’m typically corralling were not by my side; no stroller to collapse and send through security, no small child’s hand to hold, no toddler on my hip.

As I waited at the gate, I ate a peanut butter sandwich and some cubes of cheese and drank some water and realized I’m eating a meal made for them, not really for me. I realized, too, that this impromptu, 3 1/2-day trip home to Texas to see my mother, brother and father would be the longest I’ve been away from my two boys (now 4-1/2 and nearly 3) since either was born.

While sitting on the airplane and waiting to take off, I couldn’t help but notice there are two empty seats in my aisle. My mind’s eye pictured the boys on the plane with me.

It’s not odd to be reading a book on the flight, but was odd to be reading a book with no pictures and only to myself, not out loud with four little eyes looking on.

Of course, despite being excited about the possibility of sleeping in, especially after a 2 a.m. flight arrival, I still awoke at 7 a.m. – the typical 2- and 4-year-old wake-up call time at our house. I absent mindedly flipped on the hotel TV and found PBS Kids before realizing there wass really no need for “Sesame Street” this morning.

As I enjoyed lunch with my dad and brother, I instinctively glanced through the menu considering what I would order for the boys if they were with us. It felt odd not to have a purse full of coloring books, markers, UNO cards and the like to entertain them. It was odd not to spend time walking up and down the river near the restaurant on an “explore” with curious boys eager to take in every new sight and sound. Sky, my 4-year-old, popped into my mind as I noticed interesting buildings around us. I could almost hear him: “Mom, I’d love to try and build this place with my LEGOs.”

It was odd to go to sleep without tucking them in. I was enjoying uninterrupted talks with other adults and some time to myself, but I was also missing them already – after only the first 24 hours.

I think this is motherhood: Worrying a bit about them, even though I knew they were COMPLETELY FINE back at home with their dad. In fact, I’m sure the three of them were having a blast. I jealously thought of the fireworks fun I’d be missing – their eyes sparkling with excitement as colors burst across the sky.

I’m grateful that before I left, all four of us had some wonderful family time at the beach. I marvel at the grand identity shift that occurred so quickly nearly five years ago when everything changed and how comfortably I sit with the identity of mother. I’m surprised at how odd it feels to not be wrapped in that identity for a few days. I’m a bit like a fish out of water in spite of the 30 years of my life in which I was not a mother and had a clear identity of my own.

I’m still that person, too, I remind myself. That person, but now also a mother. I get to share my life with three people I can’t imagine being without.

I decided to enjoy this time in Texas, knowing the boys and their dad would have a wonderful Fourth of July weekend, too, and that all three of them would be back by my side in just a couple of days because the beauty (and challenge, at times) of motherhood is that it is constant. I know this from my own mother. Although I’m all grown up with a family of my own, she’s always still there for me. She’s still mom. It’s nice to know some things never change.

I know there are many people who are away from their families right now for various reasons – or estranged from their loved ones. I hope for reunions for them all soon, and I realize this is one of my favorite things about traveling – catching glimpses of those reunions from time to time: a child running into a mother or father’s arms, a baby being handed off to a grandparent to hold, a couple embracing and sharing a long overdue kiss, friends excitedly reconnecting after too many months or years apart.

And I’m savoring my own mini-reunion: time with my family here in Texas where I get to be daughter, sister and friend before heading back to California once again to be Mommy.

Jennifer Fischer is co-founder of the SCV Film Festival, a mom of two, an independent filmmaker and owner of Think Ten Media Group, whose Generation Arts division offers programs for SCV youth. She writes about her parenting journey on her blog, The Good Long Road. Her commentary is published Saturdays on SCVNews.com.