On The Road Again

The Holiday is on the screen again, and I am crammed into another airplane seat. I would almost laugh about the fact that I am again, the second time in a week and a half, flying across the country, and that I will be turning around to fly back tomorrow night, on the aptly named Red Eye, which is neither long enough to sleep nor short enough to not sleep. And then, two days later, I get to fly back across the Atlantic to both my home and my husband.

I am not complaining, although it may sound like it, but I am not, particularly since I am flying out to Vegas to see my grandmother, who has been having a hard time of it over the past few weeks. It started with a cold, or bronchitis, or a chest infection, and turned into something much worse, a fluke of grand proportions when she moved the wrong way and hurt her back so badly she was helicoptered from her home in Arizona to the big city of Vegas. She was told she would need 8-10 weeks of rehab, in a brace, and being the 91-year-old woman who danced the conga at my wedding 3 months ago she was up for the challenge.

Unfortunately a hospital is not actually the best place for a sick person to be, is it? She has dealt with other complications that have worried all of us more than I guess I ever thought possible, and my brother, dad and uncle have all been there, sacrificing trips and work and personal things to help my grandmother, who has always been one of the bravest and strongest people I know. My brother has been incredible, flying out at the drop of the hat to help her, to help find out what the doctors are saying and to make sure she gets fed when she is supposed to and put in bed when she is ready to go.

My uncle has left work to be there, to make sure that she is settled in and my aunt has helped her with her hair so she has some semblance of feeling normal. They drive 6 hours each way so they can spend time with this woman who is an inspiration to all of us.

My dad selflessly, along with my brother, cancelled a trip the two of them had long had planned to Peru, that they were looking forward to, knowing they would be able to do it some other time, that right now Vegas is exactly where he needed to be.

And now it is my turn. I am returning to London on Thursday, and there was never a question in my mind that I would fly out to see her before I get even further away. The good news is that she has been doing better, that she may even be able to go to a rehab facility in her town in Arizona, with her friends and her card group and her things, in the next couple of days. And given what I have heard about some of the staff at this hospital, perhaps this is exactly what she needs to make even bigger strides than she is making right now.

Of course, in order to get to Vegas at a time where I could maximize my visit with my grandma I left Grover and Cris’s house in DC at 4:45 this morning. Which meant I got up at 4, showered, got ready, all in the relative dark, so as not to wake my nephews, both of whom are fighting or recovering from colds. So as I slowly creep down the stairs to wait for my cab I do the one thing that only I could do. I fell down the stairs. Somehow I neither hurt myself or woke anyone up, but I have to believe those were both pure strokes of luck, of someone feeling bad for me about getting up so early and cutting me a break. Or maybe I am just so used to falling that my body refuses to get hurt!

And because I can’t get enough of planes I am not flying direct but connected in Atlanta. I am maximizing my flying time as much as possible.

The past couple of days have been great, spending time with not only an old friend but also with my family, minus my dad, enjoying time with Wes who 15 months is walking and dancing and smiling and has curly hair that clearly doesn’t come from my side of the family and Landon who told me all about his friend Barbara to which I replied “Barbara?” since you don’t often hear that name someone who is only 4 and he said “oh Barbara is a really cute name isn’t it? And she wears really pretty dresses!” And then he told me all about the difference between mulch and compost. The kid is truly a genius. I got to spend time with Grover, who I didn’t think would be home and time with Cris and meet some of her friends who were over for a book club. I never doubt how fortunate my parents and I are that she married my brother, and that she not only doesn’t mind but (I think!) enjoys spending time with us, and vice versa.

And now I have to deal with the reality that I have not one, not two, not three, but four assignments coming up in the next two weeks, two of which are due today and tomorrow. Somehow they didn’t seem so pressing 4 weeks ago when I left London. And since I haven’t seen my husband in 4 weeks I am not really thinking about my assignments as much as thinking about how much I can’t wait to get home to see him. 4 weeks is just too long, no matter how nice it has been to be with my family and friends.