This year for Thanksgiving, we had the privilege of flying home to Maryland to spend the holiday with Austin's family. Here is the story of how we got there:
* The week before we were scheduled to leave, Austin's grandmother, who had been ill for some time, finally passed away. Some travel schedules had to be moved around, including changing Austin's ticket to a flight out of Denver instead of from Salt Lake with me and the kids. But the funeral was beautiful, and much of the family got to be together for it. It was definitely one of those bittersweet kinds of funerals. Of course Grandma Wilcox will be missed, but we're so glad she finally gets to be with her husband, who passed away 8 years ago, again.
* The day I was scheduled to leave was also the day of a twice-semesterly free clothing exchange put on by the MBA and Law programs at BYU. These have been such a blessing to us, providing us with the bulk of our kids' clothes over the last year and a half, that I thought it was worth stopping by for 5 minutes to grab a few things on the way to the airport. Not having Austin with me would make this slightly more difficult, but I thought it was still doable if I just left the kids in the car while I ran in.
The morning went well, although the first snowfall of the year had finally made its appearance. I had everything packed the night before, woke up early to get myself ready before the kids got up, packed the car with all our luggage, and had everything ready to go. Then I thought, "I should turn on the car now so it will be nice and warm for the kids--especially since they're going to wait out here for me."
So I turned on the car, cranked up the heater and pushed the defroster button. Then I dusted the snow off and scraped the ice off. But when I went to open the driver's side door to put the ice scraper away...I discovered that somehow I had locked the doors. With the keys in the ignition. And the car turned on. And 15 minutes before I had planned on leaving. AAAARGH!!!
I panicked. I searched in vain for Austin's keys in hopes he had left them behind. I tried in vain to call his phone (it was 7:15 in the morning) in Denver. I searched in vain for our hidden spare key. And then I decided in desperation to call my insurance company to see if I could get a locksmith. Turns out I could, and it was covered under my plan, so all I had to do was wait--and hope they arrived in time for me to catch my flight.
In the meantime, I awoke the kids, fed them breakfast, and tried to keep the choking feeling from rising out of my stomach into my throat. (Is there anything worse than being late for a flight?) I told Carson that we were waiting for a man to come unlock our car. He said to me, "When is Logan going to get here and unlock our car?" I said, "No, we're going to Uncle Logan's house in Maryland. A different man is coming to unlock our car." But I am not kidding you when I say that when the locksmith finally called to say he was on his way, he name was in fact Logan. Weird! I look at it as Heavenly Father's way of letting me know--thru my son's mouth--that He was aware of me and that we would make it.
So! Logan the Locksmith arrived and, let's just say I'm astonished at how easy it is to break into my Subaru. Moments later, and inside a toasty warm car, (which had been running for the better part of an hour) we set off. Encouraged by the speediness of the unlocking, I decided that maybe there still was enough time to drop by the clothing swap and grab a few needed items.
At 8:30am, I set off for the Salt Lake City Airport from BYU Campus in Provo. Door to door, if you're being dropped off, there's no traffic, and you adhere (somewhat) closely to the speed limit, this is a 45 minute (minimum) drive. My flight was at 10:00. This left me just 90 minutes (from takeoff) to get to the airport, park in the long-term parking lot, get my kids, suitcases, and carseats onto the shuttle, check in, and make it thru the airport to my plane. As I headed for the freeway, I asked Carson to say a quick prayer that we would make it to our airplane safely and on time. And then, I forced myself to stop looking at the clock, stop letting the panic rise in my throat, and tried to assure myself that I was in the Lord's hands.
I parked at 9:15 on the nose. Strapped all my luggage together and around me, and had poor little Carson following behind pushing Cora in the stroller. Managed to catch a shuttle and get to the check-in counter by just after 9:30. We were told that we could make the flight, but it was too late for our bags. (The attendant told me that although my bags were required to fly with me, and although it ws too late to load them onto my plane, he would figure something out.) So, feeling grateful I had packed all the kids' clothes and one spare change for me in my carry-on, I sped thru the terminal--kids, carry-on, and car-seats still in tow--to my gate. A guard helped us cut thru the lines at security, and we FINALLY made our flight. Whew! And...we weren't the last ones to board.
To conclude, we made it, but our bags didn't. Fortunately, they arrived later that night, and Austin was able to pick them up when he landed the next day. And that's the story of how we almost didn't make it to Thanksgiving, but how a little boy's prayer, and a lot of faith made it happen.
It's also the story about how I am starting to learn that no matter how carefully you plan, and how much control you think you have over things, you really don't. And just one tiny little change or mistake can completely overhaul your plans and expectations. It was like a perfectly orchestrated lesson to teach me that I'm not as in control as I like to think I am. But even though everything seemed to fall apart, it still worked out in the end. So I'm trying to learn to let go a little.
No comments:
Post a Comment