“Rest assured, Chuck; I’ll be home in a few hours.” I send a text as I wait for my Lyft driver.
How many times can a flight be delayed? Stay tuned.
I arrive three hours early for my flight home to Indy. The area for baggage check at the Charlotte/Douglas Airport is a popular place. My “quick” venture through the TSA Pre-check line has become a long and winding trail. I’m one of the many travelers who paid to qualify for not-so-quick access, releasing me to my departing gate.
I hold onto my boarding pass as well as my patience.
I watch as a young mother places a car seat on the conveyor belt to be scanned. All of a sudden, Cheerios burst forth from an attached cup. I mean to tell you that it was an explosion of Cheerios. I read the exasperation as well as the embarrassment that covers her face. Looks of compassion come her way as so many of us are thinking we’ve been there, well, not precisely THERE but …
I get to Gate B15 and am alerted, on my phone, that my flight is delayed 30 minutes. Then an hour. Then another hour. I am currently holding onto hope that the fourth delay is the last one.
One of the items that is a necessity to pack whenever I travel is patience. Thank goodness I am a people watcher. Oh, the sights I have seen while sitting here at the B15 gate. I could write a segment for What Not to Wear and a column, “Did you look in the mirror before you left home?” I might add that I am fascinated by tattoos.
People are handling all the delays well, except the parents of little ones and the poor travelers who have missed their connections.
The longest line is at the American Airlines Customer Service Kiosk. Apparently, Charlotte is where many flights connect and now disconnect. Travelers are weary as they try to figure out how to get from here to there via, I never planned to go there.
The family sitting behind me at the gate has three little ones who are doing their best to amuse themselves while waiting. Their parents are not amused, and those around them are trying to hide their non-amusement. The voices of the littles get shriller as their wiggles get wigglier. I’ve been kicked several times as they straddle their seat backs … and mine. I think I’ve heard at least a dozen threats from their parents. I hear their flight called. I whisper, “Hallelujah.” They are not going to Indy! God bless the travelers going to Los Angeles.
I’m sitting here wondering if it will be me sitting in 18A this time. I’m in Group 6, so it will be a while before I make my way down the aisle.
I’m determined to keep my good attitude despite being a bit weary. I want to go home and hug my husband.
After FIVE flight delays, I am heading into the jetway to fly the friendly skies.
15,16, 17 … Happy Day! There is 18A, and no one is sitting in my seat. I think I hear chimes!
Photo provided by Janet Hart Leonard
There is happiness as well as joy in seat 18A. I’m heading home to my husband. Prepare to be hugged, Chuck Leonard!
It’s a short one-hour and 35-minute flight to Indy. We land eight hours after I left my hotel.
It’s been a long day. There is no place like home. Home is being with Chuck. My hand feels right at home as it rests on my husband’s hand on the gear shift of his car. Love isn’t always spoken; sometimes, it just rests.
Yes, Chuck, rest assured … I am home.
Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.