By LaDonna Sansevero
In the summer of 2007 I decided I needed to take a trip to California to visit my parents. It had been a few years since I had last seen them, and since they are getting up in years, my two brothers and sister also thought it would be a good idea and that getting together would be a good Christmas present for them. Although my mother is 77, (almost blind from macular degeneration and on oxygen most of the time) and my father is 84, they live independently in a small 500 square foot apartment. Despite the fact that they were no longer in their big house, they were thrilled with the prospect of having the whole family together for the first time in almost 30 years, and my mother was determined to have an “old fashioned” Christmas.
Now, I live in North Carolina, which is about as far away from California that one can get and stay in the continental United States. I have been here for 17 years and both of my daughters have stayed in the area with their families, and their children are my parents’ only great-grandchildren. My siblings and I had the original thought that it would be great to have everyone go so that there would be four generations together. It sounded good, but it only worked out half way. My oldest daughter had her third child in October and had to go back to work in December for the holiday rush (she manages a retail store) so would not be able to take the additional time off. My youngest daughter works for me, so there was no excuse for her, and she was excited about the idea of her two girls getting to meet their great-grandparents.
Another problem was that my husband had been having medical issues for several months which made it difficult for him to sit in one place for any length of time. We debated this issue for a month on whether or not he could manage a five hour plane ride or not. I was torn both ways – it would be nice for him to go, but he would make the trip miserable because he would be miserable; and I would feel guilty for leaving him home alone, but would also feel miserable myself for not going to visit my parents. In the end, he decided to stay home, my son-in-law decided to stay home (I think he did not want my husband to feel left out), and it was my youngest daughter, her two girls, and myself that bought tickets for the trip.
So – we stated to plan our trip. We would fly from North Carolina to San Diego, California on the 18th of December. The first couple of days we would spend some time taking the girls to Sea World and the San Diego Zoo. We would then drive the 2 hours to Riverside on the 21st to spend the week with the family. Then fly out of Ontario, California on the 28th back to Wilmington. Tickets were bought, hotel reservations made, and a rental car was reserved.
Two weeks before the trip I talked to my dad on the telephone. Mom had gone to a VFW Christmas party so was not home, and Dad was worried that I was calling to tell them that something came up and we couldn’t go out there. I assured him that everything was fine and that I had to go since we already paid for the plane tickets and could not get a refund. He was excited that we were all coming for a visit and kept saying he could hardly wait to see the girls. Two days later I got a call from my brother telling me he was in the hospital.
It seems that he had been taking aspirin as prescribed for his heart, but they had caused some internal bleeding. Upon investigating the bleeding, a couple of malignant tumors were found in his colon, which was then cut out. The doctors were hopeful in that they had found the tumors when they were small, but they also cautioned that this was a type that did not go away easy, and he may only have another year to live.
I know that my parents are not young, and neither is in the best of health, so I’m always half expecting a phone call to tell me that one or the other has moved on. However, they are both semi-independent and mentally alert so it seems as if they will just go on forever. The news of something like this is still heartbreaking, and put a new perspective on our little trip. It was no longer just for pleasure and getting together with family – it was also a time to say “good-bye.”
Despite the news, we kept to our plan and early in the morning on December 18th we made our departure. Everything started out easy enough – we got to the little airport in Wilmington, printed out our tickets, checked our luggage and got in the line for our security check. It was a good thing we got there early and not a lot of people were in line. Trying to get ourselves, a four-year-old and a 17-month-old through security is an experience I do not want to repeat too often. Everything had to be taken out of the diaper bags for examination – crackers, Sippy cups, shoes, wipes, diaper ointment, pacifiers – all had to be inspected. Then trying to put everything back into the bags in some organized fashion, shoes back on, and making sure that we had everything we started out with while trying to keep an active 17-month-old from wandering off before we got the stroller to strap her into again.
At 6:50 a.m. we boarded a small plane for the 45 minute jump to Charlotte where we would then transfer to a larger jet and straight to San Diego. This short trip was uneventful and the girls were excited about flying in a plane. The 4-year-old spent the time looking out the window, and the baby was secured on my lap under her blanket. Although an extra ticket had been purchased for the younger child, she still needed to be on someone’s lap during take-off and landing.
Upon arrival at Charlotte, we checked the board to find where we needed to go to catch the next flight (which was on the opposite end of the airport of course), secured the baby in her stroller and hurried to the gate. We got there with 10 minutes to spare and sat down to get a little better organized and to check the seat numbers on the tickets – which happened to be four individual seats in different sections of the plane! What? That can’t be right.
I left my daughter grumbling over how she took hours to pack the carry-on bags so she could find everything and how going through security just messed everything up and she could not find a thing and the girls eating crackers and asking when lunch was going to be ready (it was now about 8 a.m.). A woman and young boy was talking to the person behind the deck so I stood back to wait my turn. The woman was not happy because her son was given a ticket with a seat number that was in a completely different section of the plane than the rest of the family. The attendant behind the desk was telling her that since he was 15, he was old enough to sit by himself, but that everyone should take their ticketed seats on the plane and then see if other people would trade with him so he could be near the rest of the family. I could see this was not going to be good…..
As the woman and boy moved away from the desk, I stepped up to present my problem. I showed the attendant the tickets, pointed out the seat numbers, and made the comment that it was illogical of the airline to place people in different sections when the tickets were all purchased at the same time. The attendant smiled pleasantly, pushed the tickets back to me and said that there was some computer malfunction and several families on the flight had been broken up the same way. The best thing for us to do would be for everyone to take the seats assigned on the tickets then see if other people would trade their seats so we could be together.
“You do not understand me,” I tried again, “ two of these tickets are for small children. The 4-year-old may do okay as long as she has her portable DVD player and books to keep her busy, but I feel sorry for the people setting next to a toddler who has to have her diapers changed occasionally, fed every two hours, and will probably have to be held while she takes a nap. On second thought – that may not be a bad idea…. Their mother and I can relax and enjoy the flight while those other people can take care of the girls. Sounds good to me…”
The attendant gives me a long look and realization is starting to sink in. “You are saying that two of these tickets are for preschool age? Let me check the seating….” She pulls the tickets back towards her and starts typing on the computer. “The best I can do is put two in one row and two in another row. Then once the plane is loaded, maybe you can switch with the other people in one of the rows.” Since it was not the attendant’s fault that the seats were mixed up, and she had done her best to correct the problem, I thanked her and went back to tell my daughter what happened.
We boarded the plane, took our positions in row 14 seats A and B and row 12 seats A and B and waited for it to fill - my daughter keeping both girls with her. A family of five moves down the aisle and stops at row 13 across from us. The father tells a little girl of about seven to wait until he gets her mother and two brothers (twin boys of about two) settled in their seats. The girl was crying and the father was complaining that the airline was crazy. I agreed with him while the flight attendant kept telling him that everything would work out once everyone was on board and that other people had the same problem. Nothing like a good game of musical chairs before a flight….
A middle-aged businessman enters the plane and moves to take the empty seat next to my daughter. The baby starts crying because a stranger is setting next to her and the four-year-old is worried because that was supposed to be her “nanny’s” seat. We ask him if he would like to trade seats and she smiles and shakes his head, explaining that he is claustrophobic and needs to be next to the aisle. Even the offer to having two seats does not seem to persuade him. Another family fills up the rest of row 12 across the aisle and the one seat on my side – so asking them to switch would only serve to displace members of other families.
The plane is filling up fast now, and the noise level is growing. People are moving down the aisle, putting bags in the overhead storage and getting settled. I have to talk loud for my daughter to hear me as I ask her what she wants to do with the girls for take-off and if she wants to hold the baby or for me to take her. The businessman seated next to her suddenly has a change of mind and asks if the offer of two seats for his one is still available. We trade seats, other families are shuffled around as other people trade their seats, everyone is happy (except we paid for a seat we could not use), and the flight actually leaves on time.
