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Tuesday, June 18, 2013

And Just Like That....She's Gone

Wellllll, she's off, and I (yes, me. Crier of all criers) didn't cry. Okay, so I got a bit teary and I wouldn't let go of her when she hugged me and I couldn't just walk out of the airport and leave her waiting in that big old security checking line and I had to watch her all the way until I couldn't see her anymore, but, and this is a BIG BUT, I didn't cry.

To be honest, I feel like I kind of blew it by not crying. If there was ever a time when tears were appropriate, this was it. I should have cried. Okay, I did for a bit this morning when Zan gave her his last father's blessing before he went to work. It was beautiful and included everything that needed to be pronounced upon her. Lovely. Yes, I cried and nearly sobbed.

The airport was a ZOO. We got there two hours early. #1 had assured me that she would only need her ID in order to get her boarding pass. Hmm....Maybe that's why I had the impression that I should print off that email she forwarded to me with her itinerary on it, but I didn't do it. DUMB! Listen and do....listen AND do! We needed the confirmation number, so not having a smart phone, I called a dear friend, instructed her on how to access my email account, and she gave me the number. Thanks, Christy!

All of that was really no problem at all. It was the checking of the bags that was tricky. You should have seen that line! UGH! Seriously it went on FOREVER! We went to one line, and then the Warden decided that the better idea would be to go to the skycap outside and check them there on the curb. Again, the line was long; although, not nearly as long as the one inside the airport.

Right after we got settled in that line, a woman came dashing out of the airport with a very concerned look on her face. No question she was frazzled, but little did I know, she was our tender mercy. She was frantically searching for a place to check her bags. Her two children, probably ages 7 and 10, were in tow. She made her plight very public. A man sitting down the way asked where she was headed. Her response: "Salt Lake." Wait! She was going the same place, but she was frantic. Were we supposed to be frantic? Hmm...Maybe so.

The man directed her to go inside and find the "woman in red." She would help them.

Alrighty, then. We were off too. #1 and I took off and trailed the woman. We ended up standing in front of the ONLY guy who was checking in our flight, but we were also standing right in front of all of the people checking their bags for our flight. I don't think they were too happy that we intended to cut in front of them.

I asked the people in line if they were bound for Salt Lake. They were, so I proceeded back farther and farther and eventually ended up in the back of the line. The woman with the children, still frantic, told everyone she was going to Salt Lake and needed to get in line in front of them, which she proceeded to do. No one argued. Nice of them. For some reason, it seemed she thought she was going to be the only one on that plane, or at least, the only one that mattered.

We, eventually, got ourselves to the front of the line and paid the money to check the bags. I was impressed with that poor Delta airlines worker who was so friendly and genial when I'm sure he has to deal with grumpy people, one after another after another. He was so great to us.

We hurried to the family, took a few pictures, hugged #1 like crazy, and let her go. But, I couldn't just let her go. It was weird. I wanted to watch her until  I couldn't watch her anymore, but remember....I didn't cry. I got close, and I teared up, but not a tear dropped and the tissue remained in my pocket--bit old wad that it was.

She serpentined her way through, passed security without a hitch and off she went without turning back.

#1 just called a few minutes ago. She is with my sister's middle daughter, who also happens to be named Julie (we're both named for my grandmother) in Salt Lake. They were heading to dinner..... Thank goodness! #1 wasn't able to eat at all this morning because of the excitement.

Tomorrow, #1'll check into the MTC around 1pm. I'm so thankful she has Julie. Julie also served a mission. Her's was to Argentina. She will make sure #1 gets there safe and sound and that she'll have a blast in the meantime.

I created a Spotify station this morning that is comprised of songs that #1 plays on the piano frequently. If you've ever heard Cristofori's Dream, that's the main song that reminds me of her. When we got home from the airport. I turned on the Spotify channel. This was the first one to play. I just thought it was so fitting for the day and her situation....and mine.





I teared up, but....I still didn't cry.

3 comments:

Hoppers said...

I enjoyed hearing your story. I, too am a crier, but amazingly didn't cry when we took our boys to the airport. Don't know what it is. I felt bad too, because my children have come to expect that from me and they look at me to check. I know that one in particular (they left about 3 months apart) kept looking over at me and I know it was to see if I was tearing up yet (usually just a matter of time!). Something about that experience that made me able to hold it together. However, I know that the opposite will be very true upon the day I have them in my arms again at the end of their missions! I will be a mess, I'm sure of it! Looking forward to it. Only 5 1/2 months left for the first one to return!

Alyson said...

Bless her, and bless you! She'll do great, and so will you. This is the beginning of a long 18 months, but I'll be so excited to see your countdown in a year and a half. Bet you'll cry when she gets home!

LeAnn said...

I have enjoyed reading your posts on getting your daughter ready for her mission. It brought back a ton of memories of getting my daughter ready to go. My daughter went when we were able to take her to the MTC and attend the orientation meeting. We also met her at the airport when she flew out. I too wouldn't leave until I saw her plane leave the airport. I can't say I didn't cry.
You did have quite the airport experience.
The blessings will come from having a missionary.

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