I did something stupid, which by now probably doesn’t surprise any of you but my mouth is still agape. We had a plan, the hubby and I, to drive down to Jeremy’s for Grayson’s fifth birthday. It would be the first time I celebrated a birthday with him and I was really excited and the presents were amassing in my closet to the point where I could hardly put laundry away. 

While I was visiting with Jodie one evening, we were discussing the upcoming trip and I mentioned how I was dreading the 13-hour car ride, which had them asking why the heck we didn’t just fly down, which got me thinking about the Southwest gift card burning a hole in a drawer for the past four years. We haven’t used it because I didn’t like the longer drive to Rochester than Syracuse. (But it’s a heck of a lot shorter of a drive than to North Carolina)

So here was a great opportunity to finally use the gift card. I had Jodie look up affordable flights and place my order. Dealing with the hubby would be sticky because he would prefer to drive, and I had agreed to the driving because all of Grayson’s gifts wouldn’t fit in my purse. Now I was finding out Southwest lets you have two suitcases free – per person - so it all made perfect sense. And because I knew the hubby would be mad, I even agreed to foot the bill. 

A week before we were to leave, a plane crashed in Ethiopia — the second in six months because a plane also went down in Indonesia. I started to get a sick feeling. Then I played my “what if” game of how bad would it be if our plane crashed, and the answer made me even more anxious. I had way too many unfinished quilts piling up, in various stages of completion. My life long desire to meet with Jesus would be inconvenient at this time. 

Then the hubby greeted me at the door with “Do you realize that those two planes that crashed lately are of the same make as what we’ll be on?” causing my stomach to flip. He wanted me to cancel our reservation. I called Jodie for advice and she felt her dad was over-reacting. 

Well, he’s just trying to keep me alive and I appreciate that.

Right after I hung up with her, Jeremy called me. He said he thought we’d be nervous about flying because of the crash and told us to go with our gut feeling. I told him we’d be canceling the flight and driving instead, which would get us there a day later. This is when I grasped the real reason he called. He was hoping we’d come next month instead. 

Apparently he had too many circumstances happen that would make our visit less than fun filled. He got behind on a job because the painters came in and booted him out, but he wanted the job done before he went on vacation — a few days after our expected visit. Then he hit me with the big one — “and we got robbed.” 

They’d gone for a hike and when they got back to their car the window was smashed and Rachel’s purse was gone. Credit cards, ID, the works. Naturally they were not in a fun frame of mind. 

I’m not going to lie to you, I cried some because I was going to miss yet another birthday of that beautiful little boy and it about crushed me. (Not as bad as dying would have though.)

But my big problem is that Southwest could only let me reschedule the flights — meaning we would still need to get on those planes sometime before February. Hopefully they will have answers by then. 

As luck would have it — this time luck was on my side — they grounded the planes the very morning we would have headed to the airport. 

Meanwhile, instead of having a hundred dollar gift card nagging me to use it, I now have $524 worth of tickets to either unload, or risk life and limb. 

I need a lobotomy.

debbiehough@hotmail.com

 

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