The main reason for flying for me has been to visit family. While I am proud of my children going out into the world and making a place for themselves, it breaks my heart every time it’s time for us or them to leave and I have to say good-bye again. Not knowing when I’ll see them again, hug them again, talk to them again… Although, one of the blessings of covid has been Zoom. Mostly because of the time difference (either they’re eating or we’re eating, or they’re sleeping or we’re sleeping), I’ve talked to my California daughters more in the past year and a half than I have in the past ten years, and we’re getting to know their husbands so much more. The time difference makes it difficult to connect for long, but we’ve made a conscious effort to take the time to visit online every other week as much as possible. With covid nearly emptying the airports for a while, it has been a joy to see their faces and to share their lives even if it was on a computer screen. Whether we talk about important things or every day little things, it doesn’t matter. It just matters that we have a way of seeing each other and chatting, laughing, and maybe even crying a few joyful tears. Through the sorrow and fear caused by the pandemic, we found our blessing. We can’t change the circumstances around us, but we’ve made a way through it to stay connected – almost as if in person.
Wading through the pandemic via Zoom, has been our sunshine above the clouds (from last week’s blog) of the effects of the virus – because there's the opposite of the rising above the clouds in a plane to see the sun. There’s the descent into cloudy areas, which envelopes the plane in white fluffiness. There’s a blinded set of minutes in which you are grateful for things like radar and radio transmitters, and which reminds you again there are elements in life we cannot see and that we sometimes just need a little faith to get us through. But, in the plane scenario, you know you’re almost to your loved ones or else you’re almost home, and the cloud becomes comforting rather than depressing. We don’t mind the cloud enveloping the plane for a short spell; it brings a soft welcome, a silent approach to children or, on the way back, to home. And as Dorothy said in “The Wizard of Oz”, “There’s no place like home.” And there isn’t. We love our traveling, our adventures, our reconnections, but there’s some comfort in coming home. The place where we’ve spent over thirty years raising children and helping out with grandchildren, and where the rest of our children and their families reside near enough to visit; the ones who are with us on a more regular basis. Home is our place of comfort and peace.
Though I’m grateful to have some children nearby – one son and four stepchildren and their families (who would have known those four little children I helped raise and tried my best to be a blessing to, would turn out to be my own blessing?) – one of my son’s and his family moved several states away this past summer, and my heart is heavy as I adjust to saying goodbye to yet another of my children and his spouse and their children not knowing when I'll see them again in person. But thanks to airplanes, I know it is not forever. I know I will still see them even if it’s only once a year. I know that we can chat on the phone, do Facetime or Zoom calls, and text moments of our day that make us think of each other. (One of them is messaging me right now as I work on this blog!) It’s not the same as in-person, but it’s also not like it was in the beginnings of our nation with immigrants stretching out across the country – to never, ever see the families they left behind. Wow. What terrible or wonderful things made them leave? [Terrible as in unlivable circumstances; wonderful as in the adventure of a new land and opportunities…which might go back to the terrible.]
So, when I’m up in the air in a plane and looking down on the earth, water, or clouds and enjoying the wonder of flying, I know I mostly love flying because the plane takes me to my beloved. Sometimes I get to see big cotton candy clouds that make you wish you could jump on them. Other times, the clouds are perfectly spaced “dots”, or low-lying covers, fully or partially covering the land. Or sometimes it's clear sailing and the pilot comes down to 30,000 feet and you get to see what the Grand Canyon looks like from above. Awesome. But always, in the back of my mind, is the thought of why I am sitting in a plane, setting aside the comforts of home and a slight sense of claustrophobia in those tight seats, knowing I’ll be getting some hugs very soon, or I just got as many as I could to tide me over until the next time…
The blessings of technology. Look for the blessings.
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