Oct 17 2007
Your Limo’s not waiting
Having procrastinated the floor cleaning, I was not ready when it came time to depart to pick up my parents from the airport. As all people who pull things out at the last minute can attest to, I can accomplish what I have delayed doing until the last minute, but there are always unforseen circumstances that catch me in the end. Right before I was set to leave, I logged on to check the flight status and was dismayed to discover that it was arriving 20 minutes early. I had arranged to pick my parents up at the curb and needed my cell (mobile) phone, so they could call me. There are families that park their cars, walk into the airport, carry balloons or flowers, hug in greeting, help with the luggage, and walk together to the car. Melochs are not one of those families. Picking up at the airport involves standing at the curb, catching a shuttle or a bus or if we’re feeling really gracious, a ride from someone we know. When I realized I was now 20 more minutes behind schedule, I grabbed my phone to make sure I could call my parents and let them know I was on my way. I discovered that the battery was dead and realized I had not yet purchased a car charger for my phone. I gave Josiah instructions to call my parents from home when their plane landed and tell them I was on my way. I had initially given myself an hour to get to the airport. Even with their flight arriving early, I thought I might just make it. I keep a small notebook in my purse that contains a myriad of information: phone numbers, restaurant recommendations, to do lists, directions, etc. I opened it up to the airport directions and started driving. I spend the majority of the first 6 months in a new location getting lost. (In Australia, I combined getting lost with occasionally driving on the wrong side of the road.) I followed my written directions and was soon approaching Reagan airport. At this point I realized that since my parents were flying into Dulles airport, I had been reading the wrong directions. I had taken the interstate through the middle of DC instead of following the one that curves around the west side. That’s alright I thought, I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out how to get over to Dulles from here. Abby and I then proceeded to go on an unplanned tour of D.C. and Maryland to view the Capital, the National Cathedral, and parts of D.C. I was pretty sure I shouldn’t stop in. At the end of our circumspect route, we entered the toll road to Dulles. When I drive this road, I believe the length of it grows. If they would just put signs on it giving the distance to the airport, it would help. The first sign could say: “100 miles to Dulles”. Then I’d drive ten more minutes and the next sign would say “99 miles to Dulles”. I know it is not that long of a road, but it feels like that long of a road. When my parents checked in for their flight, they had not been assigned seats next to each other, and they requested to be moved. In an unexpected blessing, they were moved to first class. They were really happy with the silverware, good food, dove bar, and comfy seats. Reality struck back quickly, however, as they stood on the curb and realized that there was no limo waiting for them.

I need to think about this Mugs … what were you doing in the class that covered map reading when you were in the military?