static prepares to board

This was a post of travel with my sweet kids as we readied ourselves for the sky.

All best to you as you prepare those diaper bags and brace yourselves for home, but also a little reverse culture shock, maybe. As you love those friends and families you’ve missed, and let them lavish you with the hugs and all of those little things you’ve missed.

~~~~~   ~~~~~    ~~~~~    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~..

See–I’m preparing to travel to visit my dear dear amazing amazing Grandpa who has gotten sick. 

We will go and hug him so hard, so much. 

All of the energy in traveling is already worth it, obviously.

But there is still some stuff to ready, some static to comb through. 

jude's close face

Static is what we hear when one of the monitors is not on.

It is all crinkly, reminding us of old time tv rabbit ears & standing with tin foil in your hand,

one leg extended, body mashed mid-movement like twister, erect, away from the board.

Some things are a bit staticky too, right now.

My husband gave me a sip of his whisky, with directions to “take a good slug”

to just calm me down a bit,

even me out.

See, I’m preparing to fly with the kids

(first time with both)

& I’ll be the only parent, like always on these flights.

And it is not a hop, skip, & a jump,

but over oceans.

Over blue and depending on the airline,

we may cruise over pointy white caps

like we are jettisoning snowboarders

shooting a spearmint ad.

My kiddos & I will fling ourselves across the sky,

eat & try to sleep

& be warm and lovely and ourselves

in cabin pressure

in same clothes

in what the heck time is it

& what the heck meal is this supposed to be

in lumbering through same aisle-ways

bumping into big guys’s arm extended

& why are all these ladies wearing night time, stick on white masks. They are so freaking scary.

We will try to fit

in too small bathrooms

for anyone

let alone people changing diapers

on ten month old boys who will not ever want to sit or lay down.

There will be crinkles of static

or at least rolling carts, snores of white noise

but it is always worth it

for the joy in the receiving line,

the overtired speak

through Customs when you have to say what you do in Japan

& spit out why you are here, in America

& you feel ragged, soggy

GLIMMERING like you’ve just come through Ellis Island

& maybe your name will be changed

& everything is emotional

for the weary traveler

who may not be able to hear out of one ear for two weeks

for the hormonal woman being a single mother when she is not used to

such strength full throttle for that whole jet-lagged time,

leaning forward with the dang piece of tinfoil

and folded-in, pressurized smile

concentrating on

the next 48-72 hours

of getting there alive,

bracing for those next steps in the itinerary

and just wanting so many hugs

& a Taco-Bell burrito.