(no subject)
I awoke at 5:19am, shivering to the bone and wishing I had been smart enough to bring a jacket or pants. Instead of chastising myself, I was reminded that I lack a crystal ball. I glanced around, trying to reevaluate my surroundings. There were a few people missing and also a few newcomers. The retired vietnam veteran I had noticed before I fell asleep was still nearby, but pacing instead of resting. The black couple were resting near each other. He was tall and strong-looking, with dreads piled under a head wrap. She was earthly beautiful and had the demeanor of a strong, determined woman. They struck me as an awe-inspiring pair. Maybe it was the confidence they exuded or the way they weren't loud or garish or too material.
I glanced at the monitor, checking to see which flight would be landing and when another was departing at C-49, and discovered that the flight to Nashville was moved down the gatehouse to gate C-41. I queued with the some of the others to wait. I was hungry but had no money. I hoped I would be on this flight, hoped I would see my children soon, hoped this would be over. I was again placed on stand-by, number 11.
I sat patiently, praying half-heartedly, knowing if it was in His plan then prayer was not needed. The flight began boarding at about 6:45am, maybe closer to the hour than that. I waited, zone one boarded, then zone two, finally zones three and four. The ticket taker, a lovely, well-dressed black woman of about 45, started calling stand-bys. Five names were called, which left me at number six on the list. At the last moment, a hurried, middle-aged white man in khaki pants thrust his boarding pass in front of the stand-by line and a younger man by the name of Josh King cursed at his stolen opportunity. I laughed quietly then, at the irony, and I giggle looking back on it. I felt his luck was worse than mine.
So again, I watched the small, three-seats-across plane take off, no longer bothered by the fact that I wasn't aboard. I had a confirmed seat on the 12:50pm flight. I could wait.
But my stomach did not want to. My mind conjured up lovely croissants filled with eggs and cheese, fluffy french toast with blueberries and powdered sugar, and a tall mug of steaming coffee. Having not a dime to my name, I arranged for my mother to deposit thirty dollars into my bank account which she intended to do at promptly 9am. I counted seconds, minutes. At 8:30 am, I asked if she had been by the bank yet. Not yet, she told me. She drove by a few minutes later, intent to deposit the cash so that I could quiet my growling stomach. She spoke with the teller about when it would post.
Not. Until. Tomorrow.
I gave up for a moment. No where in an airport would take an out of state, personal check. I decided I would distract myself. I thought of David, our children, God. I watched other flights take off and come into dock. I marveled at the breaking of grey clouds into yellow and orange streaks in a grey-blue sky. I watched as others boarded, took their time, read books, laughed with children, or talked on the phone. I noticed many soldiers, one seaman, one airman, no Marines. I still had my flimsy blue blanket.
At around 10:45, I rose with duffle in tow to press my luck. Maybe one vendor would take pity. I hadn't the chance to find out. I had spotted what looked like free coffee (but wasn't) and was making my way towards it. I was stopped by the pleasant voice of one blonde lady about my age with the biggest blue eyes I have ever seen, asking if I had slept in the airport. I replied that I had, along with a couple others. The conversation continued for a moment, she was able to stay in a hotel for $50, free continental breakfast and tram to and from the airport. I did not envy her but was happy someone had found a better solution. She, too, is an army wife based in Clarkesville ( Fort Campbell, most likely), her husband is Infantry. We spoke about their MOS', future plans, my kids. At some point, I felt it was time to find a seat again and abruptly ended the conversation. Socially awkward is a fitting description.
I became prone to checking the monitor in case of yet another gate change. I noticed that the next flight's time and destination too close and too far, respectively, to accomodate my flight. I rose to check with the Delta Desk and noticed that the blonde had disappeared. I found her on my way to the desk, and let her know of a possible gate change. I walked off while she went to retrieve her things and a few other known Nashville fliers.
It had, indeed, changed to C-35. I walked back to C-39, relayed the information and, together Jessica and I walked to C-35. We sat and chatted, about our husbands, about God until it was time to board, maybe ten or fifteen minutes after finding the gate. I found my seat, she found hers, which was a few rows in front of mine. I settled in, draped my blanket over me and patiently waited for take-off, content to be on a flight at all. Soon after take off, I fell asleep and slept the duration of the 45 minute flight.
I don't know if I will fly again, but I know when I do it will be non-stop.
I have been unkind to my body and I wish to make amends. How to do that when you just don't want to? It is time for bed.