Even as our travel date, last Saturday, approached, I was having a hard time believing we’d really get to pull it off. When the trip hadn’t been canceled by Friday, I went ahead and packed. When no winter storm arrived to bollux things up, I got up at god-thirty and to the airport in good time Saturday morning.
My trip to Dallas was uneventful, as was Juliann’s, but Kate’s plane had a couple of maintenance issues, and was delayed for two hours. Which happened to be the exact time allotted for her layover.
Thanks to the miracle of modern WiFi, we were able to keep in touch through the delay. When we realized she was likely to miss the second flight by less than fifteen minutes, I just about cried. So close, yet so far away.
I went up to the gate agent, showed her the string of texts and the flight status to plead my case. “Please? Can the flight be held for just these few minutes?” “Sorry, no, we can’t hold the flight for one person. But I will hold the gate open for an extra five minutes, just in case she can get here.” The agent had done what she could.
With heavy hearts, Juliann and I boarded the plane. Kate’s flight was on the ground, but they wouldn’t let her deplane early. With the added delay to get off the plane, there was no way she’d be able to get through the terminal on time. I went to the flight attendants, to see if they could tell me when they thought Kate would be able to catch up with us. (American has just one flight to Merida each day, and Sunday’s flight was not available for booking; it was full.) They looked at me sympathetically, and said the airline would do what they could to get her on the flight; offer cash to someone willing to be bumped.
But she was so close!!!!!
I sadly returned to my seat, and tried to find the silver lining in all this. She’s been under a lot of stress and is quite tired. Perhaps a night in Dallas to rest wouldn’t be the end of the world. My logical brain was not wrong, but my heart was still on the floor. So close!!!
The gate agent was true to her world; it was just five minutes before we were scheduled to take off before the door closed. Experience tells me that once that door is closed, that’s it. You’re not going to be allowed to get on the airplane. *sigh*
I let Kate, who had almost reached the front of her plane, know. “The door is closed. It’s too late. Please let us know when you know what the airline will do to help you get the rest of the way to Mexico.” I leaned back, closed my eyes, and a few of those tears leaked out.
Then, then. The travel gods saw my tears, heard my prayer, and took pity on me.
On came an announcement from the flight deck. It seems five of Kate’s fellow passengers were also supposed to be on our flight, and they were going to reopen the door.
???What??? !! ????
My heart jumped from the floor to somewhere near my throat. I texted Kate the news, told her to RUN! With my phone gripped as some sort of magic talisman between my folded hands, I stared at the entrance to the aircraft. I don’t know to Whom I directed my prayers, but pray I did, with all my might. I kept my gaze fixed on the doorway for a small eternity, willing her to arrive.
Then magic happened. The tip of her pink carry-on suitcase appeared in my view, and she followed it around the corner. It was her! It was really her! All the fear and frustration of this past year of cancer-dictated separation came bubbling up, spilled out my eyes, then rolled down my face and into the ether.
I jumped out of my seat with joy, and held her closely as the tears continued to fall. We stood there for a long minute, laughing through our tears, letting the moment become real.
She is here. I am here. We are here!
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