Since Halloween night, James started a family countdown to our Illinois Christmas trip.
It is a pilgrimage we anticipate and plan for, every other year.
A snowy, white Christmas nestled around my parent's fireplace.
Christmas Day, surrounded by relatives and cookies and gifts.
Christmas 2022! This was the year!
There is the task of animal care, of getting the house secured for the week, and packing bulky winter clothes in suitcases.
There is a lot of preparation, but it is worth it to see aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents and great grandma.
We bought our plane tickets early this year, and everyone in Illinois was preparing for and anticipating our visit. We were proud that we finally planned ahead and bought the tickets when prices were reasonable and seats were open.
However, a week or so before Christmas, John came to me with a dilemma. Traveling often for work, he realized that he was several thousand miles short of "status" for the upcoming year. Now if you travel, you understand how important it is to achieve this benchmark; it comes with a lot of small comforts and perks that make a huge difference when in the air and in airports. The benefits even trickle down to the family, getting free checked bags and often times upgrades in seating. We both agreed he should try to get his few remaining miles in before the end of the year, somehow, someway.
One cross continental flight should do it, but the thought of going on a solo trip without purpose wasn't very exciting. Surely there was a way to accrue his miles and use it for something. And then a magnificent idea came to mind: A daddy-daughter "business trip" with Evelyn to celebrate her 11th birthday.
Evelyn was having trouble figuring out what she wanted to do for her birthday this year. Being so close to Christmas, it's always hard to know what to get her.
This idea solved three issues: The miles, the celebration and the gift.
Plus is allowed John to share a once in a life time special trip with his only daughter.
Enamored by the Rockafeller Christmas tree in the movies, John decided to make this dream a reality: New York City, here they come!
The plan was set. The timing would be tight. With school schedules and other commitments, plus our trip to Chicago, they would leave on Wednesday Dec. 21 and fly back to Portland late on Friday Dec. 23. Meanwhile, I would pack up the house and take care of everything so we could depart for Chicago early on Saturday, December 24.
The plan started out blissful. I received text after text, and pictures and pictures of John and Evelyn traipsing around NYC, taking in sights such as the Statue of Liberty and Times Square. They even saw the broadway play Wicked.
And then the weather rolled in. On Friday Dec. 23 I woke up in Portland to a sheet of ice on all the roads and some snow on the ground.
The boys were estatic as they hauled out their saucer sleds from the garage and spent the day speeding down the ice hills by our house, flipping over curbs and crashing into rocks. The ice certainly entertained them, which was a plus because I was focused on getting everything ready for our departure the next morning.
I dropped off the guinea pigs at the neighbors and I cautiously drove the mile to PetsMart to check in Lucy. But I had an ominous, uneasy feeling as I started getting text messages from several friends wondering about my flight, telling me that flights were totally cancelled at PDX.
Then I got the phone call from John in NYC.
Their flight was cancelled coming home.
Quick thinking put John and Evelyn on a flight Christmas morning directly to Chicago. They would simply meet us there instead of flying back to Portland. This seemed like a great plan, whew!.... but I was still unsettled in my heart. I wouldn't be relaxed until we were actually on the plane.
The next morning I woke up at 4:00 am and checked our flight. The streets were slushy now, not icey. And our flight was still on schedule to leave, although delayed an hour.
Suitcases packed, gifts wrapped, house locked up, we greeted my father- in -law as he came at 5:30 am to pick up the boys and me and take us to the airport.
Upon arriving, I was not prepared for what I walked into. There were lines of people everywhere and mazes of suitcases. I had two huge suitcases I was pulling, plus my carry on and Evelyn's violin( I promised I bring to Chicago so she could play Christmas carols for the relatives)
The boys followed close behind me, each pulling their own little suitcase and backpack. I started to sweat as I navigated the airport, squeezing between people and winding around crowds. I felt a little better dropping my suitcases off, getting through security, and making it to my gate.
I looked outside. It was grey and misty. One loan de-icer made its way around to the lined up planes on the tarmac.
We boarded.
Ok, it's a go, I thought.
We took our seats. The boys turned on their computers as we waited to take off.
And then the announcement: we were in line to be de-iced and it would take about an hour for our turn.
So we sat, and waited; but I was grateful we were going.
They counted down.
Finally, it was our turn; we were number one in line to de ice and take off. One step closer.
But then a pause.
A long pause.
"Folks, the ice is forming faster than we can take care of it. We are going to need to go back to the gate. We will be delayed. We are not sure how long. Feel free to get off the plane."
The boys were frustrated because we had already been waiting for over two hours on the tarmac. They were hungry and anxious to leave. We took our things and ran to the nearest McDonalds to get some food. The self ordering kiosks gave me trouble as I was already stressed by the lines of hungry people forming behind me. We waited for our food, and waited...and then I got the text: Cancelled. This terrible word.
I have PTSD about the word CANCELLED>this word still gives me a pit in my stomach after living through those horrible Covid years when so many things ended up this way.
Cancelled. What to do!?
Chaos. My ordered food had still not come, but now I felt the panic of needing to go somewhere to figure out what to do next.
John called me from NYC and being the seasoned, wise traveler, he directed me to run back through security to the front of the airport and wait in the line there to figure out my options.
When we got our bag of food and drinks, I told the boys it was "go time" and they needed to jog behind me as we made our way back through the airport.
We went as fast as we could, the boys running behind me balancing drink trays and food and violins, through the airport to the entrance and found our place in a line that was already wrapped around the perimeter.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to say.
John, the expert traveller usually handles all these matters but I was alone, with my three boys.
I did the only thing I could do, stand in a line.
The boys made a little pow wow near me and ate their hamburgers. Strangers saved my spot in line so I could take them to the bathroom. People were tired, angry, frustrated, confused. But there was a camaraderie because everyone was stuck together.
When I got up to the counter after an hour or two, I learned that there was nothing they could do. All the flights for the day were cancelled with no flights going out to Chicago until the 28th. And John couldn't get home to Portland now until 26th. In an instant, all my holiday plans and hopes were changed. I asked for a refund for my tickets. And after a little tear, I composed myself, turned around and faced my boys to share our new plans.
We needed to find our bags and go home.
Their emotions and disappoint was raw. I had to stay strong for them, so I made began to recite all the good things, and explained how "God is in control" and what wonderful, blessed lives we live!
I explained that Santa would still come tonight, and Lucy would be awfully excited to not have to spend Christmas alone.
After finding my suitcase, (which I was a bit stressed about considering it had all the Christmas magic wrapped inside of it) my wonderful father in law picked us back up from the airport, and we were dropped off at home again.
The whole day felt like a dream.
But I had to keep up the Christmas magic and merriment for my boys.
We played games, bought a big half-priced chocolate Christmas cake at the store and went on an evening walk looking up in the sky for signs of Santa.
The boys made an encampment below my bed, insisting that we all sleep in the same room.
And I did Christmas.
We had Dominos pizza and watched football.
I was very aware in these moments that the boys were taking cues from me as to how they should respond to the disappointment and change in Christmas plans.
If I was frustrated and mad and sad, they would be that way. If I was joyful, grateful and fun, they would be that way.
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| James took so many pictures on my phone of evidence of Santa and his reindeers. Here are some foot steps on our deck. |
We had the excitement of Christmas morning; John and Evelyn joined us on FaceTime. We had cinnamon rolls and opened games and toys (that had too many parts to figure out and put together alone)
We went to Walgreens to get batteries and built legos.
In the afternoon we went to a friend's house for appetizers and wine. In the evening, it was dinner at my in laws.
The boys were joyful.
And it was the Christmas that wasn't, but actually Was.
It was just different than expected.
And yet this was another lesson in life: we can make our plans and manipulate our life to turn out how we want it to turn out. But ultimately, some things are out of our control and it's the attitude and how you bounce back and carry on that make the difference.
And it truly all begins with gratefulness.
John and Evelyn spent Christmas at a Jewish bagel shop and in a hotel by the airport in New York. The boys and I looked for evidence of Santa and were loved by friends and family at home.
It was a different Christmas, but it was an experience that builds character.
My kids have a great life, and if this helps them learn disappointment and flexibility, so be it. It certainly won't be the last time their plans will fall through.
We were all reunited finally late Monday night and the frenzy of wrapping paper and gifts from the siblings gift exchange brought tears to my eyes. To see my family whole again and to see my children loving each other, there is nothing better.
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