So, yesterday morning I was a bit of a mess. Nervous to say the least. I never sleep well the night before travel, the “what ifs” get to me (what if I forget this, what if I don’t hear my alarm, what if I misplace my ID, etc.). But Saturday night there were a lot more what ifs to keep my poor tired mind racing.
Anyway- as I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I slept like shit. So, first, I was tired.
On the first leg of the trip I figured I might help myself get my mind off the hamster wheel if I read. And it worked. No more “what ifs” bouncing around in the ole cranium and I was able to dive into teacher mode. I decided to teach my AP seniors Cather In the Rye this year but I needed to brush up since it’s been over a decade since I had read it last.
After the first flight I was halfway and my funk had morphed from anxiousness to straight up sadness. Poor Holden. 😢
But, I appreciated the change. I can handle sad. Anxiousness over a bunch of shit I am literally in no control over is stupid. So I could say I felt better. I talked to Jesse (since he’s also read it) as we walked through the airport and it was nice to be focusing our conversation on something besides surrogacy for a bit.
But then, on the second flight, I finished the book. And good heavens the sadness was overwhelming. I did not remember it being such a heavy story when I read it back in the day. I mean I knew it approached some tough subjects, but I just forgot how some of those subjects manifested themselves in the storyline. Anyway, I figured it was best not to break down sobbing sandwiched inbetween my husband and a complete stranger because the cry I felt boiling up was NOT going to be a pretty one.
I held myself together mostly well. I had one stray tear I was not able to blink away but covered it up with a yawn- important to note, I needed to NOT alert my ever so observant husband because one look of concern, or one squeeze, or one “are you okay?” would have unleashed all the stress, anxiousness, and sadness that was damed up behind the wall I had carefully constructed to protect the stranger lady sitting far to close to my left on the damn plane.
Instead, mentally, I needed to change the subject. So I grabbed the only other reading material on the plane and started reading whatever the Southwest plane magazine is titled. Guys. I didn’t see it coming!
That fucking magazine.
Inside, after you get past the 549 ads, but before you get to the articles (which were happy dog stories BTW), they have a bunch of customer satisfaction blurbs. Always positive stories about how someone was just “so pleased” with Southwest’s service or flight attendants, etc. I just got blind sided.
The first blurb was about a guy who was moving his elderly mother to come live with him. She had dementia and when it came time to deplane, she had an episode and couldn’t figure out what to do. The guy panicked but this male flight attendant stepped right up and asked the mother is she would like to dance. From there he was able to get her out of her seat, down the aisle, and into the jetway where he waltzed her up the gate. 😢 so beautiful and sweet and friggin sad. So one of those pesky tears started creeping back up and I quickly wiped it away before my eagle eyed husband saw me.
I kept reading.
The next story was about a lady who’s daughter had married a marine but he was out of the country serving so the mom was “her person” when it came time for the delivery of the baby. The daughter went into early labor so this first time grandma was rushing to make it there in time. A flight attendant had heard her story so when they landed, she made an announcement and requested all the passenengers stay seated so this lady could rush off the plane and make it to her grand baby’s birth. Everyone accommodated and as this soon-to-be grandmother rushed off, she was applauded.
Yep- THAT’s the story that did me in. First one tear- again quickly wiped away. But then another stared falling from the other eye. Again, I quickly wiped it away too but now I was running the risk of alerting my husband who would inevitably ask me that stupid question that WILL break the damn and I’ll be a sniveling idiot who will probably somehow slobber on the poor lady next to me and then Southwest will have to deal with her complaint instead of her “I love this airline” story.
As I sat trying to mentally get control, the tears- one by one kept welling up. All the pressure behind the dam was too much and finally saw a chance for escape. And as I kept trying to nonchalantly wipe those little fuckers away, my husband turned. Damn it.
His forehead wrinkled, the look of concern grew stronger, and then he did it. He put his arm around my shoulder and drew me in for a hug all while asking me if I was okay.
No. No im not okay. I just read a really sad book about teenage trials and then read the sappiest of stories, AND I’M TRYING TO HELP A FAMILY HAVE A BABY AND I SCREWED IT UP LAST TIME AND IM WORRIED I’LL DO IT AGAIN AND THE PRESSURE OF ALL THAT POTENTIAL DISAPOINTMENT IS RUINING MY MENTAL STRENGTH.
But instead, I melted into my husband and tried to stifle the sobs into his shoulder so the lady next to me wouldn’t be as startled by the craziness she accidentally sat next to.
Eventually the sobs eased and I sat back (with my now mascara stained face) and shrugged to my completely understanding husband, who, thankfully, knows that sometimes I just need to let it out. I always feel better afterwards. There’s no need to talk about anything and nothing is technically wrong… I just needed to cry.
I did warn you guys about that a few days ago… I knew it was coming!
We deplaned in CA, hopped in the rental, and had a beautifully relaxing afternoon following ZERO schedule and soaking up the ever so rare ability to be spontaneous.