So about halfway through the two-hour flight, while the man beside me slept and Kim and I dozed to the tunes on our respective iPods, I happened to glance out the window. Not even the little Ativan pill I had swallowed before boarding the plane could prevent the pit in my stomach that formed when I realized we were flying over a lightening storm.
I call it a lightening storm because lightening is what I fear — not the harmless thunder. Lightening has the power to instantly ignite our metal box and turn us into a statistic in a matter of moments. LOST, anyone?
I looked at Kim and asked the obvious question, "Is that lightening?"
She confirmed my worst suspicions and then told me that when we were safely on the ground, I should remind her to tell me of her harrowing airplane story. That was not exactly the encouragement I was looking for.
It wasn’t long before we heard the familiar ding of the fasten seat belt sign, and the pilot came on the intercom to inform us of impending turbulence. Sure enough, the plane started to bounce and jounce on cue. I gripped my own arms, as I was sitting like a pretzel trying to occupy only 2/3 of my seat, and started chanting, "Planes rarely crash from turbulence. Planes rarely crash from turbulence."
It’s true, you know. I read that somewhere. Are you impressed by my reliable sources? Clearly I am no journalist.
After about 20 minutes of harmless turbulence, the flight leveled out, and I breathed a shallow sigh of relief. I say shallow because I never entirely relax on an airplane. Except for the time that I took two Ativan, a few years ago when I was at the height of my anxiety symptoms. Now THAT’S the way to fly.
I watched my watch anxiously, eager to place my feet safely on solid ground. The way I figured it, we were within 20 minutes of landing. That’s when the pilot reappeared on the intercom to inform us that flights were backed up coming into Philly (big surprise – NOT!) and we would need to circle the airport a few times before we would be cleared for landing.
Fortunately the lightening and the turbulence were behind us, and after we circled a few hundred times, we were cleared for landing and came down out of the sky to the welcoming sight of the Philadelphia International Airport.
I made my way to baggage claim, gathered my bags (which were easy to locate due to my new luggage tags — thank you, Shari!), said good-bye to Kim and her husband and son, and boarded a shuttle that took me to my car.
After an hour in the car, I found myself driving in the silence of darkness down my familiar street. Like Dorothy, I echo the sentiment — there is indeed no place like home.
I unlocked the door and crept into the house to find everything in order and my husband at his usual post in our family room — reclining in the leather chair with his laptop attached to his hip. We said our hellos and he went outside to gather my bags.
I bypassed the computer and climbed the steps to the second floor, where I stopped to kiss my son and then crawled in bed with my daughter. Her glassy eyes opened briefly, as she smiled in recognition and then returned to dreamland.
I heard the front door open and my husband come in laden down with my luggage. Then I heard him say, "Let me guess, you’re at the computer." I giggled to myself, as even he never imagined a day that I’d be so tired as to bypass the computer on my way to bed.
I got up and staggered to my room and made the executive decision to forgo my face cleansing ritual — yet another testament to the degree of sheer exhaustion that I was feeling. I never go to bed without checking the computer or taking off my face. N-E-V-E-R.
But I did on Sunday night. That’s what "partying like a blog star" will do to ya.
8 thoughts on “The Last Installment”
OH- I’m having an anxiety attack just reading about an airplane ride. Sad to say, even a free trip to Disney couldn’t get me on one of those things! Of course, now I’ve got a medical excuse – want to avoid planes with chronic vertigo – so I’ll just hide behind that instead of looking like the wimp I truly am! Way to overcome your anxiety!
Since my flight was only an hour and twenty minutes from Orlando I flew back on one of those tiny planes — the kind you have to go outside and go up steps to board.
Number one — I don’t like to walk up steps to board a plane.
Number two — I don’t like flying on tiny planes.
And then before we pulled off the pilot comes on and says there was heavy turbulence when they flew into Orlando from Raleigh, so it may be a bumpy ride back.
The only way I calmed down was convincing myself that God isn’t cruel enough to drop me out of the sky for a Disney mom bloggers trip. Surely, he could come up with a better way to end my life than that. So through all the bumps I decided to calm down, relax and enjoy the rocking and slight dips in the sky.
I hate to fly, but the more I do it the less frantic I am about it.
Oh man- we had turbulence, too- some major kind. I was next to two young teenage boys and I turned to them for comfort- asking if they’d ever flown through something like this before. They said oh yes, and we’d be ok. It helped! I did have to wonder, though, all that “not going on rides at Disney” because I am pregnant was for nought considering that flight home was a ROLLER COASTER! Stomach drops and all!
Anyway- I got home and entered the front door, said hellos & hugs and was in bed out like a light before I can remember.
Oh,my. I cannot believe you went to bed like that, you must have been beyond exhausted.
So glad it was a happy ending! I couldn’t have handled any more drama!
I love your hubby’s comment! A couple of weeks ago when I was REALLY sick, I think what convinced mine the most that it was serious is the fact that I never even made it to the computer for 2 DAYS!
awesome writing. You really should write a book but don’t take it from me. hehe.
Hope you are having fun with your parents. I’m off to a “gig.” Wish me luck (not break a leg!) No, say a prayer. I’m going to need it.
I am totally not airport or travel savvy in the least but your ride home sounds like quite the adventure.