Three years ago I flew on an airplane, on an hour and a half flight, all by myself with these two guys pictured above.
John was going to be Orlando for business. We all flew down together a few days before his business trip was to begin, and we took in a few days at Disney.
Then it was time for us to leave and him to stay, and I about had a panic attack. I recall distinctly, just as if it’d happened yesterday, driving the rental car down the long road to the airport, and I was nearly in tears and overwhelmed with all that I had to do. With a then 5-year-old Finn and 3-year-old Caden I was going to have to return the rental car, load us all onto the rental car van to the terminal, check us and our bags at the ticket counter, maneuver us all through security and get us all onto the plane (including Caden’s big 5-point-harness car seat). It’s just too much, I thought. I can’t do it.
I called John asking if it was too late to turn around and just spend the rest of the week there with him. I did not feel capable or equipped to do the task before me. Of course it was too late to change our mind; all I needed was a little encouragement and someone to believe in me.
As best I can recall, all the things I had worried about went smoothly. The biggest dilemma was how to get us all off the plane after Finn and Caden both dozed off into deep sleeps during the flight. But even that proved doable with the help of an extra-wide airport wheelchair and the kindness of airport workers.
This past week, that same woman and those same two kids flew again. We’re all a little older and more confident now, so that helps. But as we’re settling in as a family of three, it’s good to experience things that in the past I’ve been scared to handle. Because of that earlier experience and the maturity that has come since then, I am better able to handle it today.