This morning I put my friend on a plane to go out to the cancer hospital where her mother is dying.....she's so sad. Even when we know that as Christians this is not our home and that death is our doorway to everlasting life, the ripping away of our parents, our friends, our siblings, whoever is leaving this earthly dwelling, is hard. Those of us, her friends, wish we could do something, we take care of her dogs, we make sure her mail is taken in, one is mowing her yard, the only things we can do. The family's prayer is that Rubye can come home for the last few days of her life. It has been a hard year with a lot of sickness and suffering either physical or mental or emotional....this has been the year of the emotional rollercoaster ride.
On the way to the hospital, I tried to lighten things up a little, so I told Carol to be sure if she went to the bathroom to push the vacancy/occupied latch securely! That is because 15 years ago, I, a very unseasoned traveler and my younger son boarded a plane to California to see my granddaughter. I was scared to death of flying, Granddaughter was the ONLY person or thing that got me on that plane. We stayed for 8 days, do you hear me people? 8 days with a newborn, a couple of new parents, one of which was my son who can be very temperamental and my younger son who was very hyper! Even though it was the thrill of my life to take that baby in my arms for the first time as a new grandparent, 8 days was too long, take my advice, 8 days is TOO LONG. On top of that I turned 40 while we were there. Three days into the stay, I slipped upstairs to a phone and begged the airline to change our tickets to go home earlier, but no deal. So after 8 days of sleeping on a cot, playing with and loving on a new baby and driving all over San Diego in 25 lanes of traffic going very fast (I may have exaggerated about the lanes) , a very tired grandmother and her son boarded the plane for the trip home. I was exhausted beyond, well beyond. In the plane, in the air, I needed to visit the rest room, so I got up slithered past the stewardess, I mean flight attendant and got in line. Finally, my turn came and I went into the rest room for the first time ever in a plane. I pushed the latch and was sitting on the you know what with my head resting on my arm so so tired, when suddenly the DOOR OPENED, that's right folks, you have got to push that latch hard! When the door opened and the very embarrassed man jumped back and pulled the door closed, I turned my head to the mirror and thought, man I look tired. Then I thought well, I can pull my big girl panties up and go back to my seat or I can sit here until the plane lands which was about 5 hours away. So summoning up all the dignity I had left, I walked out with my head held high....the man was no where to be seen, but a young girl was smirking.
The point of that very long story is that I told Carol to be sure to make sure the rest room door was securely locked. She had not flown in 30 years. She called me when she got to her first stop and told me that she had to hold hands with the lady sitting beside her! To heck with the rest room visit!
I said all that to say this, there must be laughter with your tears. Life is short.