And Here We Are!

After the race to make our connecting flight in Houston, I’m sure we can do anything.  Three hours to make the connection in Mexico City feels like sheer luxury.

And it actually is!  We glide through Customs {only one form needs to be filled out again}; our big suitcases are waiting for us at the #16  carousel.   A porter and cart are right there to transport the bags to the re-check-iin place and – best of all – when the attendant there says “Push the button,” Dee pushes and we get the green light!   When you get the green light, they don’t search your luggage.  Last time through, we got the red light, and that always makes me super nervous,  but this time, it’s a piece of cake.  Onward.

We don’t have our boarding passes yet, but the electronic ticket on my iphone gives us access to the train.  Unlike The Link, which runs about once a minute, there’s a five minute wait for the train.  It winds its way across the airport, which is larger than some small cities.  It all feels familiar these days.

Terminal 2. Last security check.  In Mexico, you get to keep your shoes on, which is a treat, and Dee’s shoulder doesn’t set off the metal detector as it sometimes does.   And then we’re there – Gate 75.   Getting through all that in under an hour is a personal record, for sure.

So we eat again — Starbucks salad for me — drink more coffee – and wait.  Finally, finally, it’s time.  Ok, it’s only 2:30 in the afternoon, not so late, but I’ve been up almost 12 hours.

On the shuttle bus to the plane, a group with several adults and a bunch of kids gets on too, the youngest child complaining that he wants to “get on the plane, not a bus!!”  Someone assures him the bus is just for a few minutes, and one of the women musters a cheery smile and says, “It’s an adventure, right?  We’re having an adventure!”  which makes me smile to myself.

The plane is so tiny.  It always makes me feel like it might be powered by batteries and remote control.  You can see the type of plane here, if you’re into that kind of thing:

Sitting behind us are two of the adults from the large group, and a couple of the younger children are across from them.  The flight attendant makes the usual announcement, but then she has to come over to the man behind me to ask him to turn off his electronic device.  He does, grumbling about it a bit, but  when she askes the three-year-old to turn off his ipod, the child explodes in wails of “WHY??? WHY WHY WHY WHY???”

This goes on way too long with some ineffectual attempts to calm him (without ever explaining why.)  He finally subsides a bit when the flight attendant assures him it’s just for a few minutes, but you can still hear him plaintatively asking “Why?”  I’m trying not to have some judgemental and unkind thoughts about the kid and the parents when Dee turns to the adults behind us and says, “Would he like some gum?”

“Oh, thank you so much, I’m sure he would,” says the woman, and the child is distracted and delighted enough with the unexpected treat that he’s smiling again.  The maybe-six-year-old next to him is even more surprised and delighted when Dee offers him gum too, and says, with exquisite politeness, “Thank you so much.”  And when Dee asks them to offer the gum to the other four kids in the party, the whole atmosphere on the plane changes.  Whew.

And we’re off.  YAY!

In almost no time, maybe an hour, we’re landing again, yes, yes, yes — and waiting for the luggage on the conveyor belt in the tiny Puerto Airport, peering around the corner where Lucia and Conan will appear.  And then – then – then — there they are!

I’m not sure how Lucia will react when she sees me, it’s been months since we saw each other off Facetime.   And we’re separated by an invisible line, security guard there to ensure we don’t cross the line.  But she sees me and — I am not making this up — she starts jumping up and down, screaming, “Nonna!  Nonna!”

What’s a Nonna to do – I scream back – “Lucia!!  Lucia!!”

“Nonna!  Nonna!”  Jumping up and down.

“Lucia!  Lucia!!”

And then at last we are free to cross the lline, and she holds up her arms for a big hug.

Here at last.

About Fausta

Trauma sensitive Consultant and Coach for Compassionate professionals who experience second hand trauma and are at risk of burnout so they can keep doing the work that matters to them and to the world.

Posted on November 24, 2014, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. awwwww…I am loving reading this, feeling it unfolding for you one bit at a time. Thanks for taking us along on your journey! Nonna, nonna!! Sitting here and smiling like a fool. So happy for you!




  2. Of course that’s what Nonna’s do!


  3. so, so happy for you! i’m pretty sure you will always remember this moment. A child’s adoration is an amazing gift, one that you so richly deserve, Nonna. i hope you have an amazing time and remember to relax too.


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