lesson learned

continued from yesterday….

When we arrived in Chicago, I went to the gate and found that our connecting flight to Detroit was delayed from 2:15 to 3:40 pm.

I noticed that there was another flight to Detroit that had been delayed for several hours and it was about to begin boarding. I got in the long line at the counter and was able to get us both on the stand-by list. We hung around the gate, waiting and wishing that our names would be called.

After they had called several other stand-by passengers, I was about to give up, but then they called Bill’s name! I went up to the counter and said that there were two of us. The agent said that this was the last seat available.

So I had to say, “Thanks anyway, but give it to the next person.”
She said, “That’s you.” I smiled and said, “Well, I guess I meant the next person after me.”

She called out another name and it belonged to a young man, maybe 30 years old, standing right next to me.

He said, “I’m sorry you couldn’t take it, but I’m grateful to get the last seat. My best friend is dying of cancer and I really need to get there before it’s too late.”

I touched his arm and said, “I’ll pray that you make it in time.” And off he ran to the gate.

See, things work out exactly as they are supposed to.

I wheeled Bill off to get lunch. He wanted a hamburger and vanilla shake from McDonald’s. He barely eats a thing and may have a total of 2 bites. But as he nibbled at his lunch, a Southwest pilot walked by and commented on his tasty-looking lunch. I told Bill that the gentleman was a pilot. Bill is a WWII vet. He was a Navy fighter pilot and loves to talk to other pilots or veterans. They had a nice little conversation.

He asked me where we were going and I told him Detroit. He said that he’d just flown in the very plane we were going to board and to expect a bumpy ride and to expect the seatbelt light to be on the entire trip. He advised that we use the restroom before we boarded if we needed it.

A few moments later I received a text from Southwest saying that our flight would be leaving at 2:35 instead of 3:40. I asked Bill if he needed to use the restroom. He said he did not.

I wheeled him to the gate. There were two other wheelchairs with women in them and everyone was lining up. Of course, I was kneeling down beside Bill answering the same questions over and over. One of the wheelchair women was smiling at me. Suddenly, Bill tried to stand up and said he need to go to the bathroom, now! I asked him to please sit down – that I could get him there faster.

As I turned the chair around, the smiling woman said, “Don’t you worry, I won’t let them put me on until you get back!”

“OK, thanks!”

I ran him to the men’s room. He wobbled in and I stood outside with the chair and waited, and waited, and waited. At least 10 minutes went by. I could see the gate from where I was standing, and I could see the two orange polls extending from the top of the wheelchairs. I could not see the door to the gate, but I could tell they were not yet boarding.

I began to ask men, as they were coming out of the restroom, if they had seen a really old man in there and if he was doing OK?

They hadn’t seen him. He must have been in a stall.

Another few minutes went by and I was getting nervous. I asked another young man and he said that he thought Bill was in a stall and that he may be having trouble getting his pants up. I asked if there was anyone else in there and he said no. He offered to watch the door. So I took the chair in and found Bill struggling with his pants. I helped get them up, buttoned, zipped, and belted. Got him in the chair and raced out.  The young man was standing there, with a half-dozen other men waiting. I just smiled, said thank you, and ran to the gate.

The gate door was open and one wheelchair was already gone. The smiling woman said, “You made it! Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have let them take me on until you got back!”

Just then the attendant came out through the door to retrieve her. She said, “No sir, you take him first and then come back for me.”

She was a spitfire! Loved her! I bent down, gave her a little kiss on the cheek, and said thank you!

I once again got Bill settled into the second-row window seat. This was a full flight, so I sat in the middle, next to him. I once again explained the situation to the people in front of and behind us.

Eventually, a woman sat down next to me, she looked to be about 70 years old. The questions and answers were already in full progress when she joined us. And then suddenly Bill said,  “I need to go to the bathroom now!”

The plane was still loading, so I stood up and asked the flight attendant for help. Our seat companion stood up, the flight attendant stopped the loading passengers, and I got Bill into the restroom. I stood there waiting as the rest of the passengers boarded, for at least 8 to 10 minutes.

Mind you, the reason we were able to depart was that there was a small weather window in Detroit and we were trying to seize it. This plane needed to take off ASAP. To do so, everyone must be in their seats!

At least 5 more minutes passed. I kept cracking open the bathroom door and peeking inside. He was just sitting there.

I’d whisper, “Please hurry Bill, we need to take off.” That was stupid, I’m certain he couldn’t even hear me.

Just as I was about to have a panic attack over the situation, the flight attendants had to start checking bags that wouldn’t fit in the overhead bins.

Thank goodness! That gave me the extra few minutes needed to help him get his pants up, tidy up the bathroom, and get the two of us into our seats. The door closed as I was buckling my seatbelt.

Honestly, I’m not making this more dramatic than it was, that was how it went down!

The trip was bumpy. We had to stay in our seats. And the Q&A lasted for about half of the 65-minute flight. He slept the last half. The woman sitting next to me began talking to me and asking about our situation. As we chatted, she told me how patient and sweet I was with him.

I told her that, in real life, really I am a very impatient and sarcastic person.

“Sweetheart, this is real life.”  Then she recited this quote to me –

For the love of God!
Seriously?
I absolutely lost it.

Here I was, so close to the end of one of the hardest days, and she whips that out all over me!!!

Well, not the end of the day. I still had to hang around in the Detroit airport. Fly to Denver. Hang out there and finally fly home. But still, the hardest part of the hardest day was nearly over for me.

She patted my back as I leaned on my elbows and cried. When I opened my eyes, she magically had a fresh tissue in her other hand and gave it to me. I took a few deep breaths and we were in Detroit.

I hugged her when she got up. Then she was gone. I sat back down and waited until everyone got off the plane. I once again said thank you to the spitfire wheelchair lady for looking out for us.

I then handed Bill off to his son, Peter. I went over some of the paperwork, medications, and such I needed to transfer to him. I described the four bags of luggage. I apologized that I’d neglected to take a photo of the bags, as was my intention, but we’d been too rushed in Phoenix.

I explained to Peter that Bill thought I was staying too. I knelt down and told Bill that I was going to use the restroom while he and Peter got the luggage. Peter wheeled him around the corner and that was that.

I had not eaten all day, so I pulled a granola bar out of my purse, scarfed that, and sat down to make some phone calls and check my email. I decided to get in line to get my final boarding pass. I’d gotten the pass for Denver when I was in Chicago. I still needed my Phoenix pass.

As I was standing in line, I noticed an Arrivals/Departures board across from me. My eyes were drawn to the Phoenix departures, even though I was going to Denver.

There was a Phoenix flight leaving in 25 minutes! It was a flight that was supposed to have left 5 hours earlier but had been delayed. Praise the terrible Detroit weather!

Long story short – I got on that flight!

I sat next to a beautiful 30-year-old woman from Surprise, Arizona, and her 11-month-old adorable daughter.

Shawna and I talked for nearly the entire flight. Not about Bill. Not about my experience. But about her daughter, Grace. About her 3-year-old son, Jake. About the cousin’s wedding, she was flying home from. About her paramedic husband. About my kids. About our lives. About our jobs. About our families.

I took a picture of Grace to text to Marissa. Marissa loves to sit by babies on planes! She was jealous! I’d post it here, but I told Shawna that I wouldn’t put the picture all over social media. 🙂  It’s hard to resist, she is so cute!

We learned that we were married on the same date, May 4th.
That she married at the age of 24 and so did I.
That she had her second child at 30 and so did I.
Because we both love Pinterest, we’re now following each other on Pinterest.

She was a beautiful breath of fresh air. Without knowing it, she washed away the day.

I got off the plane happy.
Happy to be home.
Happy to be home four hours earlier than expected.
Happy that Bill was safe and sound with his family.
Happy that I had learned so many beautiful lessons on a long difficult day.

The End.

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