We awoke early so we could partake of the breakfast buffet
and be on the shuttle to the airport with plenty of time to go through all the rigmarole
at the airport. It turned out there was
no rush; the departing flights are not even assigned a gate until 45 minutes
until departure. So we waited patiently to find out where to go after clearing
security. Once on the plane, another
delay, something was off with the cabin crew’s head count, so we waited
again. We had the two seats at the back of
the plane where it narrows to the tail and we found this spot offered a bit
more legroom than our center seats on the way in.
Eventhough, the rear of the aircraft seemed a bit more unstable, and the fishtailing of the plane
made the turbulence a bit more intense, we were lucky to have a bit more wiggle
room and two seats by the window all to ourselves. Naturally there were three kiddos in front of
us all between the ages of 2-5 but overall they were well behaved and when the
two year old wailed at the uncomfortable changes in altitude, her mom dutifully
rocked her, giving her a bottle to help equalize her ears and giving her some
liquid Benadryl to help her go back to sleep.
We watch 4 movies, slept for very short intervals of 20 minutes or less
and ate what we could of the airplane food, one bonus was an ice cream treat
toward the middle of the flight.
When the pilot finally announced our descent into LA, I
glimpsed the cluster of buildings I always associate with downtown and
surprisingly got emotional about returning home. I thought to myself, “My brother lives
there,” right in the heart of the city and I thought about the other people I
love who I would be coming home to and a feeling of joy stirred in my
heart. I thought about the people I
would not be coming home to (my dad who passed away a few years ago, and my
grandma who had passed only a few weeks ago) and though a ripple of melancholy
agitated my pool of joy, I knew I would find fond memories of them here
at home.
LAX provided more waiting.
A long line for customs where you input your information into a kiosk,
then another line to speak with a human who checked your passport, then an
exiting line where dogs sniffed at you and your luggage. Finally we emerged into the area where roped
off people could wait for their loved ones to materialize from the belly of the
airport. In this sea of faces, I thought
I saw our Claremont Italian teacher but she vanished before I had a chance to
confirm, swallowed up by the pulsing crowd.
(I got an e-mail from her later in the week, it was her, and her son had
been on our flight, small world!)
We exited the airport to find Greg’s mom waiting for us
behind a thick line of travelers with luggage-laden carts. She had a treat for us in the back seat; my
mom had come with her to welcome us home.
It was a lovely surprise and so reassuring to see that my mom was doing
okay with the loss of grandma. Though
completely exhausted from our travels, we chatted all the way home.
Back home we enjoyed some snacks my mom had stocked the
fridge with to fill our empty bellies after picking at our airplane food and
we quickly settled into comfortable rest back in our own bed.
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