Last night we flew cross country to Portland Oregon where our oldest son lives. It’s Thanksgiving week, airports are busy and our flight was completely full. For the second leg of the flight, a 4 hour 20 minute journey, I sat between two strangers, emphasis on the “strange.”
The turbulence was not the worst I’ve experienced but it did like to make frequent visits, particularly, for example, as the attendant was handing my seatmates their hot coffees. Jim and I were not seated together so we couldn’t see each other but I imagined myself running back to his seat if things got really bad. At the very least yelling out my proclamations of love and regrets.
Even though our children are young adults, it is still less relaxing for me to fly as a couple than alone. We haven’t set up that trust, our will is ancient, and could they ever even find it? Regret flooded me that my house is in such disarray for the boys to have to tackle. Memories of their fun, spontaneous mom (how I flatter myself!) would surely be clouded over after the first disorganized drawer clean out, let alone the fiftieth. Shouldn’t I be thinking of my creator and not my junk drawer at a time like this?? But messes I did conjure, and I scolded myself for not recently reminding my sisters of their promise to swoop in and clear out the closets first in case of such an event as this.
Really, this is the depth of my thoughts at a time like this? I’m not proud to admit this. I have recently started to set aside an hour a day for reflection, and to send healing prayers for a dear friend diagnosed with ovarian cancer. And my own dirty dishes is what flashes before me?
Turbulence is like that. It stops as suddenly as it comes. I was fine with my life ending but not with the messy strands left behind. The flight ended, we have a week in Portland and I am going to make memories with both of my sons and a future daughter -in law. But first I’ll touch base with my sisters reminding them of their sworn duty!