Taking Flight, Coming Home

Photo-419

DSC_1754-1

.

Photo-424

Photo-422

Photo-420

Photo-418

Photo-421

Photo-417

Photo-423

Photo-415

Sometime in early January (or maybe it was December), Ginny called with an idea: she was going to go to a conference in South Carolina with her mom, and Ann Voskamp was speaking there. Remembering the time we spent two years ago, Ginny wondered if I'd fly to Charlotte with her before the conference. Ann could meet us there. The plan was to spend some time visiting Elizabeth DeHority. Then, she and Ann would drive on to the conference. 

.

In the comfort of my kitchen, with late March far enough away, I readily agreed and planned to stay an extra night so I could extend my time with Elizabeth a wee bit.  My sweet husband looked dubious. I'm not the most intrepid traveler. But he agreed and found a flight and presented me with tickets. I was going.

.

The time came and I found myself in the car on the way to the airport. My cell phone rang. It was Sarah. Crying. Putting her to bed the previous night, I'd promised to read her Cinderella over breakfast. She was asleep when I kissed her goodbye. And she was devastated when I wasn't there. I promised to read as soon as I got to the gate. First, I had to stop crying. I don't leave easily.

.

I kissed Mike goodbye, did all my shoe removal and whatever and made it through security. I found my way to gate, googled Cinderella, found a story online, and called Sarah. I had to hold the phone away from my face to read the story. And I had to hold it way, way away from my face to see the tiny font. So, I sat in Dulles Airport, my phone on speaker, and shouted Cinderella to my daughter while she ate breakfast. When people glanced my way, I just met their gazes with a look that said, "What? You don't do fairytales for breakfast?"

.

Sarah was happy. 

.

Shortly, Ginny joined me. And we did what we do when we're stressed. We whipped out our knitting. There we sat, sitting and knitting--the weird lady who shouted Cinderella and her friend. We knit and chatted all the way to Charlotte, navigated the airport quite handily, and found ourselves hugging Elizabeth before too long.

.

We spent several happy hours back at the hotel, chatting, knitting, drinking tea, and eating exceedingly good takeout food. Then, we headed back to the airport to gather Ann. It was late when we returned to the hotel and Elizabeth went home to bed. Ann, Ginny, and I kept talking until the wee hours of the morning. Ginny and I even got to share Nicky's wedding toast with Ann.

.

The next day, Ann and Ginny left after lunch time. I drove Elizabeth to a fabulously giant fabric store and spent way too much time thinking about buttons. We had plenty of time to just talk. And listen. It was a much, much earlier night. Elizabeth went home to her boys and I spent my first night alone in over 25 years.

.

The next morning, I got a little bit of a violin education when I had the great pleasure of accompanying the DeHority family to a group violin class and an adjudication. We spent a pleasant morning and early afternoon at the Community School of the Arts and I got to meet several of the people who live and learn with my friends. All too soon, I was on my way back to the airport to head home.

.

Home! I arrived at the Charlotte airport two hours before departure, got through security, and walked all the way to the E gate. Then I received a phone call that my flight was at least 40 minutes delayed. I called Mike and he nudged me towards customer service. There, I inquired about earlier flights and switched my destination to Reagan, instead of Dulles. The very kind woman at the gate said there was a flight boarding at the C gate and encouraged me to make a run for it.  Run I did. And I boarded.

.

I landed at Reagan 10 minutes after my original departure time. Mike just happened to be nearby in McLean for Nick's game (which was delayed half an hour). He came to get me and we arrived for kickoff:-).

.

On Sunday we loaded up lots of people and went to watch Paddy's first collegiate game at RFK. He played really well and we hardly noticed the cold (not). We left DC and headed back to McLean to watch the team Michael coaches win a tournament and then to watch Nick save a penalty kick and the game to win his tournament. I held my sweet Sarah all day long and returned home to sink exhausted into my own bed.
.
So far, the above reads like a boring play-by-play of someone else's travels. There were lots and lots of thoughts "thunk" during those days and lots and lots of prayers prayed. Some of them remain to be pondered in my heart. Some are the overflowing gratitude that begs to be shouted from the rooftops.
.
I'm so grateful for the women who traveled with me. In so very many ways, they've traveled life, with me, too, these past couple years. It's hard to believe it's only been two years. Ever feel like you've known someone a lifetime?
.
And I'm ever so grateful for the dear friend we visited. Her hospitality, her awesome socks, and most of all her willingness to let us just *be* with her were great gifts to us all. 
.
I'm grateful to two women from whom I begged special prayers. They know who they are and apparently, God does, too. Wise women. Great pray-ers. Prayers answered. Thank you.
.
I'm grateful for a dozen hours alone in a hotel room, where I stretched my body and my soul and renewed my spirit in ways that evade words.
.
Mostly though, I'm grateful for homecoming. I'm grateful for the big bear of a man who happily gathered me into his arms at the airport, the guy who kept looking at me the rest of the day. I'm grateful for "the big girls"--Mary Beth and Kristin-- who filled the days with grand adventures for the little ones. I'm grateful for my quiet young man, who sent his heart with me, and then sent Elizabeth and me a group text with good news so he could be part of our time, too. And I'm grateful for the soccer bunch, because really, nothing could have felt more like home than freezing through three soccer games with Sarah on my lap, both grandpas in the stands, and soccer siblings doing their things.
.
Home is a grand and glorious place. And this life?
.
It's good.