Failing to plan is planning to fail.

Growing up, my family didn’t take chances at the airport. My family lived by my mom’s saying “Failing to plan is planning to fail,” and especially when it came to travel, that wasn’t just a saying, it was our standard. We were always three hours early, no exceptions. My dad even made us laminated ID badges to wear around our necks like we were part of some official airport task force. Snacks? Packed. Boarding passes? Printed and backed up. Delays? Anticipated. We were ready for anything.

One family trip to Boston especially stuck with me, not because of the trip itself, but because of what happened in the security line. We were calmly waiting near the front, early as usual, when a woman burst through the crowd yelling, “I have a question! I have a question! My flight leaves in 20 minutes, will I make it?!” Everyone turned. The stress radiating off her was enough to make me panic, and I wasn’t even late. At that moment, all I could think was, Wow, Mom was right. Again.

It’s funny how those little lessons from childhood come back around. As a kid, I thought all that extra time and preparation was a bit much. Now? I’m the one arriving early, lists in hand, double-checking everything. That moment in the airport was more than just chaos, it was a live demonstration of exactly what my mom meant. I now realize that what felt like over-planning back then was actually love in motion, steady, intentional, and always one step ahead.