Sometimes the dreams at night are so delightful one prefers not to awaken. Sometimes the day reality that awaits is painful enough to stay in bed. In the big picture, yesterday was but another series of minor earthquakes several Richter scale points below disaster, but still one prefers more solid ground to step on when beginning the next day.
It began with son-in-law Ronnie’s hope to finally join his family dashed yet again as he went to the airport for the re-booked flight only to be told, “No dice.” With no phone call ahead of time and no mention of reimbursement for any of the cancelled flights. Then a good friend flying from her new home in Germany to share her new baby with friends and family and her husband turned away because his name was misspelled when booking his ticket. Topped off with my daughter Talia losing her phone that also had her credit card, bank card and driver’s license tucked into the case. Aaargh!!!
For seven-year old Malik, still innocent of calendar dates, today is finally Christmas, coupled with a story of how Santa delivered his presents in Portland. On one hand, it has been a good thing to let him and Zadie open one present a day these past three days and savor each one more than they would if all were opened at once. On the other, I think we’re all ready for Christmas to be over!
Someday this will be the amusing story the grandkids will tell to their children: “The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t.” According to newspaper accounts, there will be thousands of such stories as people’s plans were cancelled nation-wide. We build our life and culture around the surety of plane flights, the necessity of phones and bank cards and credit cards, all 20thcentury inventions that humanity has done just fine without, thank you very much, for millennium. But now here we are, in the thick of it.
So if you need to call Talia, call me instead. And let’s see if the kids can actually fly back without their Dad this Saturday as planned. The message is clear— anything goes.