Travel

A family trip to Florida was necessitated at the death of my father-in-law. The six of us arrived at Midway airport in Chicago--Me, Mr. Jorie, Daughter #One, and her child Elli, Daughter # Three, and Auntie, my husband's aunt.

The trip was unexpected but we had traveled many times before and had flown in and out of Orlando on numerous occasions. We would only be away for four nights. It was decided that we would not bother to check our luggage.

It seemed logical not to spend the extra $15.00 per bag to check our luggage. It seemed logical not to have to wait to collect our luggage once we arrived. Somewhere in the foggy recesses of our sixty-one-year-old brains, Mr. Jorie and I thought the luggage decision was a good and practical one, and would expedite our travel time and save a few cents as well.

Taking a closer look at the travelers, one might question the ease of travel this decision would make.

Traveler # One: Mr. Jorie --A tall, large, affable man with both knees replaced and a high risk of falling due to balance issues. He has a tendency to think that he can do anything, but does indeed carry his weight when it comes to moving luggage from point A to point B. He also thinks that it is "cute" to engage each and every security officer in both airports as to how they like the color of their new shirts.

Traveler # Two: Me--Having endured five hip surgeries, my replaced hip is, needless to say, very weak and my gait is often unsteady. Having endured nearly a dozen wrist and hand surgeries, my upper body strength is certainly challenged. My wrist, with the total joint replacement, is painful even when minimally taxed. I am a happy traveler but quite limited in my usefulness.

Traveler # Three: Auntie--Dear and sweet, Auntie in her early eighties traveled through the airport in a borrowed wheelchair. She too has an artificial joint--her hip. She was truly a joy to travel with, however she could only carry what would fit on her lap. (I must admit at times though, we could hardly find her once we stacked so many things on top of her.)

Traveler # Four: Four-year-old Elli--As lively as could be, Elli pulled her little suitcase and darted here and there as we maneuvered our way down the concourse. Of course she was far too small to carry her carseat (a toddler model which separated, whether you wanted it to or not, into two bulky pieces.)



That left Travelers # Five and # Six--Two able-bodied young women, put into service by default, completed our party. Patience, strength and perseverance (mixed with a little wit and sarcasm) had to be their travel mottos.




We began our trip by driving to the airport and parking in the remote parking lot to save a few bucks. Loading all of our travel luggage and personal items into the shuttle bus, our trip began.



We managed to acquire our boarding passes with just a little help from the airline personnel. Proceeding to security, we braced ourselves. With a toddler and three joint replacement (ie. "Metal in Body") travelers, my two daughters prepared to collect ALL of the bags as they rolled through the screening area.



Just a side note: Every traveler wants to get through security as fast as possible. Many people believe that those in wheelchairs should have no advantage over themselves. Many travelers believe that the family of those wheelchair travelers should have to wait in the "regular lines" (and are willing to say so) even though their family members truly need their help. Travel does not always bring out the best in folks.



As everyone knows, each air traveler is allowed two carry-on items. Well, with the purses, the carseat, the lunches and jackets....and oh, did I tell you that Mr. Jorie and Auntie each carried their C-PAP breathing machines along with them as well....we seemed to have an endless number of carry-on items in addition to the legal twelve allowed the six of us.



As everyone also knows, one must remove jackets, shoes, belts, keys, cell phones, etc. from one's person, and place such items into bins to be inspected. Laptops must also have their own bins. I believe we had two of those as well. Not only then were there bins of carry-ons, but also numerous bins with the above mentioned items as well.



As every air traveler also knows each person is allowed three 3 oz. bottles/tubes of liquids in a one quart ziplock bag. We got a little mixed up on this one and ended up being forced by a security agent to discard two expensive tubes of hair product, which were well over the 3 oz. size. (So much for trying to save a few bucks by carrying on all of our possessions.)



Mr. Jorie and I are used to the scrutiny required as we, along with Auntie, were individually searched in the "special search area." I tried to keep an eye on Elli as my two daughters gathered bin after bin after bin of our carry-on possessions. Making it through security with all of our belongings seemed like the hardest part of the trip, although we continued to face challenges. We finally proceeded to the gate.



Upon boarding I was challenged to incorporate two of my bags into one. "Don't you know that you are only allowed two carry-ons?" quipped the attendant. I tried to oblige...and also convince my hands that I could accomplish the task...while standing in line....while all those behind me waited. Daughter # One loudly reminded the attendant that the four-year-old was only carrying one bag, so one of mine could count for hers.



Managing to make it on to the plane (while Mr. Jorie chatted with three more security agents standing at the entrance to the aircraft--about the color of their shirts), our next task was to find overhead spots for all of our belongings. Other travelers watched our efforts and I actually believe that our entourage created a comic diversion for many.



Upon arriving in Orlando, we all trekked through the airport, onto the shuttle train, up and down elevators and finally to the parking garage to pick up our rental mini-van. A sigh of relief was breathed by all once the van was loaded up and we each could finally sit down and relax for our hour drive to the home of my in-laws.


The time spent in Florida was meaningful and even relaxing.


Four days later Mr. Jorie and I, along with our 61-year-old brains--still apparently foggy, decided that since we did not check our bags on the trip down to Florida, there was absolutely no reason to check our bags on the way home. Gluttons for punishment we willingly repeated the entire process in reverse, and traveled home to the Windy City with all of our bags in tow.



I have personally vowed that in the future I will always check as many bags as possible during any future trips, although I don't believe that Mr. Jorie totally agrees.



Thanks goes out to my two able-bodied girls who made the trip possible. I suppose when all is said and done, all of the smiles and laughs along the way made what could have been a difficult trip just a little easier to endure.



It is so good to travel though life together with the ones we love---and oh how wonderful it is for them to be able to help carry the load when help is needed.

Pride

Excitement, bringing out the child in me, brightened the cool November evening as my husband and I found ourselves taking our four-year-old granddaughter to the Ringling Brothers circus at the United Center. The pre-show was exciting as families streamed into the arena with popcorn, sno-cones or cotton candy in hand. As I waited for the show to begin, I thought to myself, "What could be more American than the excitement that ensues when the circus comes to town?"


At last, the ringmaster entered the center ring and asked the audience to stand to sing the national anthem. The three of us stood, and Elli observed her Bampa and Gwamma sing while most of the folks around us remained seated. As I glanced about, I was truly in shock. This melting pot called Chicago...who had just days before had the great opportunity to vote...who could now watch a peaceful transfer of power...who enjoy the fruits of freedom in their lives that this country offers...who know that young Americans are in foreign lands laying their lives on the line...who are blessed to have the means to bring their children to this venue...this melting pot of folks chose not to stand up and sing OUR National Anthem.


The show was amazing. Our granddaughter loved it and we loved watching her. I left, however, feeling just a bit saddened and disillusioned. The Greatest Show on Earth had concluded, and the crowds who live in The Greatest Country on Earth departed. Their children, having the privilege of one day becoming president, had watched their parents and grandparents, who did not stand up--

--an opportunity lost forever.

Willingness

My friend Ron is in the lawn chair. 1981

Friends are the people in our lives whom we choose to love.

The love between us is unconditional.

A true friend understands the essence of what makes us who we are.

Speaking and listening between friends is comfortable and safe.

I was suffering through my third miscarriage. When I say suffering, I mean the emotional pain of glad expectation, lost in a heartbeat. My friend and his wife were visiting us to give their love and support.

I was indeed having a pity party as we set in the family room together, when I sadly exclaimed, "I will never be the same again."

Thoughtfully Ron asked me, "Do you think that's all bad?"

I pondered his response, which was given in love.

I was stunned. Then my soul quieted.

I was rescued from my grief by one perfect simple question.

I was reminded once again to rest in God when nothing made sense.

In time I realized that my losses would prepare me to reach out to others who were in need.

No, I will never be the same. I believed it in 1982 and I believe it today.

Unexpected change can be a very good thing, if we can pull ourselves out of the darkness that life can send, into the real world again.

I'm glad that we never stop growing.

Assurance

Last week I experienced the moment....

....the moment when I knew that Spring was actually here.

Oh, there had been other moments here in the Midwest that indicated that spring was just around the corner. The piles of snow had all melted. Warmer days appeared here and there. Buds on the trees were coming awake after their long winter sleep. The first robin of the season hopped out from nowhere and was quickly followed by many brothers and sisters. Easter candy was piled high on the shelves at every store. Summer sportswear had made its way to department store racks. Even the straw colored grass on my lawn showed just a hint of green.

Daylight Savings time had transformed the evenings in Illinois. The calendar showed that spring had officially arrived.

So many signs of spring abounded, and indeed made me happy and hopeful. However pulling into my driveway on that day, in a moment's time, I knew that spring was actually here.

If you asked me how I knew, I couldn't tell you, but I knew in my heart that the renewal of nature, along with renewal in my soul had arrived.

A broad smile came to my face.

Perhaps experiencing life's peaks and valleys over many years I have found that no matter how difficult the winter can be, it will eventually melt into spring. The pain and anger, the frustration and heartache, the disappointment and hopelessness of life's winters will always be followed by a spring. We can be certain that there will be a time of love and hope, joy and happiness, forgiveness and peace that suddenly, or gradually, springs into our lives and we know that we can go on.

I hope that spring has returned in your neighborhood and in your heart. I hope you treasure it.

Belonging

The young man was a visitor in our home. He enjoyed being with our family--the joking and the loud conversations--the sometimes playful and sometimes bickering siblings--the meals and games around the table--the reassuring words. He enjoyed himself during the repeated visits that autumn.

The young man had come from a different home life than what he found with us. It had been a troubled and difficult upbringing.

Following several weekend visits to our home, he gave us a gift. A small framed photo of himself, posed with us, taken on an earlier visit was given. It was made touching when he told us that he just wanted a place on the piano.

Our piano top, overflowing with family photos of several generations, had been observed by the young man.

He wanted to belong.

He wanted to be family.

My thoughts for the day:

...never close your heart to the needs of others.

...never take your loved ones for granted.

...always save a place on top of your piano and in your heart.

Satisfaction

The tray of cupcakes on the table was almost too much excitement for four-year-old Elli. With several treats within reach, she had her eye on the prize--the one and only cupcake on the top.

Why was that cupcake so important? Why--because it was out of reach. Why--because its importance to Elli had to do with the concept of wanting something just out of reach. Why--because, once obtained, it would bring more happiness than any other cupcake because it was longed for. (Well maybe that theory is true or maybe not.)

In the past, I have been an avid collector. Now I have a lot of things. I have dolls. I have Christmas ornaments. I even have Easter ornaments. I have so many items, that storing them is a problem.

Small 8" Madame Alexander dolls are my favorite collectibles. Exquisite in detail, I still get a thrill when I see a new one for the first time. However, time has taught me that wanting a specific doll can be very exciting, but once acquired, the doll has lost it's charm to a great degree because now I possess it. The fun was in the wanting.

Now that I am at an age to have gained a bit of wisdom, I have realized a great truth. Although longing for things may be exciting as the anticipation builds and builds, obtaining the object brings only momentary satisfaction, potentially leaving an empty feeling of disappointment as the yearning is over. It may also leave a person looking for the next thing that will make them happy. In my case, that would be the next doll.

I believe my cupcake theory to be true. I have wanted the prize many times, only to be let down once I possess the thing I was longing for. Please don't get me wrong. I still enjoy my doll collection, as I am certain that Elli enjoyed her cupcake. I am happy though that after all of these years, I am able to put "things" into perspective.

I have learned that the best things in life aren't things.

Dignity

It was Christmastime in NYC. Visiting the city for the very first time, we were all excited at each new sight. Decked out for Christmas, we found Tiffany's, Radio City Music Hall, the tree at Rockefeller Center, the theatre district, all amazing and spectacular.

My youngest daughter and I, just dying to see a real Broadway play, got first row seats for RENT. That play would not have been my first choice, however as mother's often do, I let my child choose, and being nineteen, she chose the play about AIDS and gays and dying and desperate people. Of course going into the theatre, I was unaware of the plot.

The play was superbly done! The acting and the music were awesome. The story was very thought provoking. Kelsey and I enjoyed it thoroughly, however I was moved to tears at the song about dignity.

"Will I lose my dignity

will someone care

will I wake tomorrow

from this nightmare."

I was moved to tears as my mind was flooded with the many times that I have lost my personal dignity during my medical misadventures. I have been helpless--totally helpless. I have thought I was in a nightmare that might never end.

During one hospitalization I remember a situation where I was on complete bed rest and had just had surgery on my hip for the second time in a week. I was wearing a hideous hip brace which kept me from bending at the waist and kept my legs separated.

It was during my bath, in bed, with the aide assisting me, that my pastor knocked on the door. The aide, without thinking said, "Come in." I don't know what was she thinking. There I was on my side (with my back side facing the door) in a position with one leg held stiffly up in the air by the brace and of course, I was totally naked.

Picture in your mind's eye how you would feel if this had happened to you. Words cannot describe how you might feel.

Having that episode, and many others, swimming through my mind, I continued to watch the play with interest. Upon leaving the theatre the only song going through my mind was the refrain, "Will I lose my dignity?"

Why would that now be on my mind while I was supposed to be having the time of my life on vacation, visiting my son and his wife, during Christmas week?

The next day Kelsey and I were on a subway train together, excited and heading to another tourist destination. We happened to sit facing a man who had lost his dignity. He was dressed poorly, with his head hanging between his legs. Candy wrappers and food were scattered on the floor in front of him. He was apparently high on something (at least, that is what I assumed) and he dozed intermittently. When he awoke he would take a bite of food, and then he would doze again and the food, half eaten, would drop to the floor.

Picture in your mind's eye how you would feel if you were this man. Words could not describe how you might feel.

The man, and the two of us were seated at the rear of the car. Other people would enter and exit the car just next to us. If they caught a glimpse of the man, they quickly turned away from the sight of him. Many people, like us, were tourists. One family with a school-aged child were particularly well-dressed. From my vantage point it was easy to watch people's reactions. In this case, as soon as the mother saw the man she quickly shielded her child from the sight of him and turned away herself.

The refrain from the play continued to play through my mind. I began praying for the man. I still pray for the man, whenever he comes across my mind. For me, that is every time I think of our trip, and every time I see a movie or tv program set in New York City. In fact, I know that I will never forget "the man on the subway train."

It was Christmas week in NYC. I visited the city to see the sights I had long heard about. I visited Queens to see my son. I went to a play just for fun. But what I learned has left a lasting impression on me.

I realize that although I have been embarrassed many times, I have not lost my dignity to any degree that even comes close to that of the man on the subway train. My heart actually aches even now, over a year later, as I sit here writing, when I think of him.

I could pontificate now, but for what purpose. You have either felt my emotions or you have not.

My only advice tonight, is to be ready to grow whenever one of life's great lessons barges into your life unexpectedly.