Past midlife, exploring radical faith, trying to be as honest as I can about the things that matter. Justice, good food, learning, mercy, faith, hot soup and bread, integrity, watching people grow and change, knitting with natural fibers, sunflowers in September...
Five years ago this week, my daughter left Vermont for a couple of weeks to help me after my surgery. This week I have the honor of returning the favor.
my view from the kitchen through the cabin
The trip here was an adventure in submitting to the things I cannot control. My first flight was delayed because of the need to de-ice the plane, and this prevented me from making my second flight.
I want to be completely clear that I am grateful to a pilot and an airline that puts safety, including spraying the plane with de-icer at least four times, ahead of schedule. I'd rather be late than unsafe.
The computer for my airline automatically moved me to a different itinerary, which involved two flights instead of one. When I spoke with the ticket agent, she suggested a different itinerary, through Atlanta instead of Chicago, so that I could arrive in Boston sooner, and be on the bus at a reasonable time from my anticipated 3 hour ride. I happily accepted.
My layover in Atlanta was warm, but deceptively simple, leaving from the same gate at which I arrived.
We touched down in Boston a bit late because of having to circle the airport for a long time, so I was worried about missing the 4:55pm bus I hoped to take. I walked as fast as I could---faster than the walkers on the moving walkways---only to find I was too late for that bus AND that my luggage had gone to Chicago and would come on the later flight from Chicago.
Not only that, but I could not go on to the bus and let the airline deliver it, because they do not deliver to Vermont. I checked the schedule, and the Chicago flight was due at 5:25pm. With a lot of luck I'd make the 5:55 bus. But the arrival time was changed, to 6:15. and then 6:19, 6:24, 6:27....
I found myself struggling to accept that over which I had no control. I checked the flight status every few minutes, and pondered several options of persons whom I could implore to get my bags on time. I finally realized that checking the flight status would not change it, and no one could help me catch the bus I wanted!!!
It was time to accept what was and then figure out what to do with it.
The plane landed, the passengers gather with me around the baggage claim moving oval, and we waited. The 6:55 bus came and left. My suitcase came, and I waited for the final bus of the day which would not leave until 8:55.
I was worried about my daughter needing a good night's sleep before surgery, and how late she would have to stay up to come get me. She was worried too, so she took a nap, and fell deeply asleep. So asleep, that she could not hear her alarm go off.
We made it home and fixed me some supper and got to bed sometime after 2:30 a.m.
Art in the kitchen
I'll let my daughter's medical story stay her own, except to say we are doing well and it's good to be here when she needs support. She slept a lot yesterday, and I took some pics to remember the flavor of being here. The indoor pics are above, but I also took a walk while my daughter napped, and could not resist the beautiful golden sunlight coming from the lowering sun late in the afternoon, or the sound of the brook flowing under the ice.