A Moveable Feast in September
September 12, 2010
20/20 Hindsight
Kaya, my seven-month old granddaughter, was still asleep when we left
our son Mark's house for the airport. The day before was the last time I held
her and tried to make her laugh by tickling her. Her slant “Chinesey” eyes
sparkled as she gave a toothless laugh. I should have gone to her bedroom
before leaving and kissed her goodbye—I recalled with regret. I wished to have
taken a last look at her, to behold her face, serene in her sleep, because by
the time I got back from this trip, she would be gone to another part of the
world and then in a couple of weeks, to another part of the country. The next
time I would see her would be years away and she may not remember me as the
grandmother who tickled her to laughter.
I also thought of
Marisa and Gabriel, my two other grandchildren. I saw them lately and felt sure
and content that I would see them again when I came back.
Oh well, some 20/20 hindsight.
September 12, 2010
Day 1
The fifteen-day tour was actually only for thirteen days. The flight to
the destination was Day 1 and the return flight was Day 15.
I was intent on arriving at the airport on time—two to three hours
before departure. Security checks usually take a good amount of time.
Carry-ons, purses, jackets, shoes, keys, anything metal, liquids, and gels that
should not exceed three and a half ounces in each bottle, must pass through the
X-ray machine. Security personnel could possibly pat you down. These checks are
cumbersome, annoying, and yet these measures are for the passenger's own good
and safety.
Our son Andy drove Ron and me to the airport and we got there at six
thirty in the morning for our eight thirty flight to Philadelphia, where we'd
catch our connecting flight to Lisbon. Only a few passengers were checking in
at the time, so the process was short and smooth. We then proceeded to the departure
gate and relaxed while waiting to board.
Philadelphia was a
five-hour flight from Seattle, with a two-hour wait for our connecting flight
to Lisbon. My thoughts went to two different directions, figuratively going
east and west. I thought of home while I mentally reviewed the checklist I had
left with the children: check on the house, get the mail, things to do in case
we lose our lives inflight. Then my thoughts shifted to the upcoming tour. How
lovely it would be to see Portugal and Spain! But then, the "what
ifs" came back to my mind.
We boarded on time and settled well in our seats. The flight attendants
walked the aisles inspecting if everything was in place, carry-ons stowed,
cellphones turned off, and seat belts fastened. I was also ready to fall back
to sleep considering that I woke up at four in the morning, an unusual time for
me to be up. Before I succumbed to a relaxed mode, I again recalled all the
last instructions to my children. Did my list cover everything? Contact
numbers, bank account numbers, what to do in case of emergency, books that I
wanted to leave my children in case I don't make it back home, files of
important papers, flash drives of my written stories, and other important
information, watering the indoor plants, picking up mail, and so on. I had sat
with them on what to do if in case we lose our lives in-flight or in any other
place away from home. At my age, these things become a concern and I think
about them—all the time. Sometimes
I'd wished I was like the turtle, carrying his house on his back. As all these
thoughts went through my mind, I heard the thunderous rumble of the plane's
engine as it tried to gain speed in its ascent. Then the rumble changed to a
drone as the plane steadily flew. I placed the pillow against the window, and
covered myself with the fleece blanket and tried to catch sleep because I knew
that in a couple of hours, the flight attendants would wake us up for snacks
and drinks. Economy accommodation was not too bad, although the sitting
position was a bit uncomfortable because there was not enough legroom for short
people like me. I encouraged myself to relax and finally dozed off. Sleep would
make the nine-hour flight seem short and it would drive away all the apprehensions
I had, the what ifs. What if the we'd get lost at the Lisbon airport, what if
the weather would not be good, what if we'd lose our luggage and we'd not have
anything to wear or use, what if we our tour director won't be there, what if
the other tour members were not friendly, what if, what if, and more what if.
We landed at Aeroporto
do Lisboa, safely. What a relief!
