(Editor’s note: This is the second in a two-part series.)
After a whirlwind weekend spent with my newly engaged daughter as she said “yes to the dress,” she and my future son-in-law drove me to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport to catch my plane back to Wisconsin. Packed full of a cornucopia of sights and sounds and after experiencing French, Thai and Japanese cuisine, it was time to go home.
Flying solo was formidable to me. I’m quite the proficient follower. Leader? Nah. Venturing out all by myself? Very daunting.
As I found out, going back home on a direct flight from DFW to Appleton was anything but routine.
Checking in my bag with the help of my family, they waved me off after a good, long hug full of emotional tears. Goodbyes are so hard. Securing my gate I sat down to wait, tucked in with a good read.
All of a sudden, I received a notification on my phone from my American Airlines app — there was a gate change. Oh joy.
Staying calm, I thought: Okay, I am at gate B48. The notice said now my gate is B42. I heard my daughter’s instructions in my head as if she were sitting right next to me.
“Follow the numbers and letters, Mom. Watch where the arrows point and it’ll take you right there. Also, I’ve just sometimes followed the crowd. They’re all going where you’re going when you’re waiting at the same gate.”
Getting to B42, I used my God-given right to ask questions and inquired of a pleasant young woman who was also traveling alone, “Are you going to Appleton?”
Smiling with understanding, she sweetly replied: “Yes, ma’am.”
Finally, my group eight was called to board. Heading to the back of the plane I was in seat 22F, very close to the bathroom. It seems whenever I travel I am really close to the bathroom. Once in my life I’d like to go first class. I used to think flying was glamorous. It’s quite the opposite of glamorous. The only thing really lovely is it takes only 2 1/2 hours from Texas to Wisconsin — normally.
Settling in, I was anxious then to just go home. It was an emotional weekend, so full of different experiences and I was incredibly glad to have gone but at that moment, I just wanted home.
Then, the crew was delayed. The air conditioning on the plane wasn’t working. Our departure time came and went. I was concerned about my husband, he was to meet me at 10 p.m. and at this rate it would be much later.
It started to rain. Hard. I was hot and tired and wanting to go home.
Finally, the crew boarded, the AC was reinstated and the plane began to move down the tarmac. Coasting, coasting, coasting — we came to an abrupt halt.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are on a brief delay here while we wait for numbers to crunch. We’ll get this bird up in the sky in a moment or two. Thank you for your patience.”
A moment or two turned into 30 moments and finally, we were airborne. Yes.
Later, “Ladies and gentlemen we are experiencing some rough turbulence on our trip this evening. The seatbelt light will be lit and please remain in your seats until further notice. Thank you.”
Because I was in seat 22-F I had almost the entire plane (and it was full) of people in front of me. Watching their heads jig around like those bobble-head figures, I began to ponder the what-ifs. I claim Jesus as my Lord and Savior and know He has a place prepared for me. Because of what He did for me, my name is written in the Lamb’s Book of Life. No matter what, I will live forever in eternity with Him. Praying that certainty, I calmed and as I prayed for co-travelers, the plane calmed as well.
Soon we landed at Outagamie Airport and taxied to the terminal — and waited. Waited. Waited.
“Ladies and gentlemen the ground crew is having a bit of difficulty getting the stairs up to the plane. It’ll be just a moment or two and we’ll get you off. Thank you for your patience.”
Truly, I was not even remotely upset. It was just so crazy – the entire trip back home seemed like what may go wrong could go wrong. But I was so very close to home and we had thankfully landed safely. Whenever I must wait anywhere, I always reassure myself of one solid fact: I have more time than money. So chill.
Finally catching a glimpse of my husband, we hugged tight. It’s hard to be separated for a weekend when we’d been married and farmed together for 45 years. He picked up my bag and we started home, pulling in on Leopolis Road at midnight.
Treasuring my time with my precious daughter while in Texas, I experienced more color than Dorothy opening her farmhouse door to Oz. Yet, like Dorothy, I came to realize — there’s just no place like home.
(“And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.” John 14:3)
Kay Reminger was born and raised on a dairy farm, and she married her high school sweetheart, who happened to farm for a living in Leopolis. Writing for quite a few years, she remains focused on the blessings of living the ups and downs of rural life from a farm wife’s perspective.
