Going home

After an hour and a half ride in a taxi through unfamiliar narrow roads seemingly heading towards nowhere, I struggle to keep my eyes open. Tiny thorns of fear are prickling inside me; maybe a street taxi in the middle of the night wasn't such a great idea. Best to stay awake and alert.

But the taxi driver is confiable and we arrive at the airport in Tuxla at 4:30 in the morning. The flight to Mexico city is non-eventful; it's the trip to the US that proves to be slightly more challenging.

A half hour after our take off time and we have not moved. A flight attendant chipper voice comes over the PA telling us our delay is due to a noncooperative youngster traveling alone - she will not be boarding the plane after all. Twenty minutes after this and they tell us the door to the luggage compartment under the plane will not close and so we may be delayed for a few more minutes. My layover time to reach my connecting flight from Atlanta to Chicago is only a little over an hour. This may get interesting.

Finally we take off. I frantically search flights to make sure there will be some way I can get to Chicago that night. Between searches, I chat with my sister. Dad is now stable but still not out of danger.  I need to get home.

We finally get to Atlanta and I rush to get in line for my boarding pass for my connecting flight. From the murmurs of the crowd, I gather that we have all missed our flights, but they are frantically looking for the next best option to get us home before the airlines close. Just as I reach the counter a lady announces that no more flights will be available, but they will put us up in hotel rooms for the night. I feel defeated, but with tears in my eyes, I hand my boarding pass and say, I have to get home now.

The lady looks annoyed, but as she reads my ticket she says, "Girl, that plane was delayed too! they are still boarding, hurry up and you can catch it!" I drop my luggage off in a panic and run; the other passagers, overhearing my shaky voice, smile sympathetically and let me budge in line. My gate is across the airport and I take off running as fast as I can with my heavy backpack. An airport employee in one of those annoying beeping carts, passes me and then stops, asking if I need a ride. I smile graciously and hop on.

I am dropped off at my gate as a man is arguing with the ticket taker. He is a non-English speaker and the lady at the gate is clearly annoyed. "Sir, I can't understand you; we are not allowing anymore passengers on this plane!" My heart is crushed - I catch the lady's eye and she shakes her head. It was then that I lost it. I turn my back to the lady and start sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and covering my face. The lady extremely irritated says, "oh alright fine. But you aren't getting your same seat!" I say thank you and run to my seat, guiltily leaving the confused passenger behind.

I arrive in Chicago, just in time to catch a taxi and catch my 11:00 bus. My luggage however  has other plans for me. I wait 20 minutes watching others pick up their bags and stroll away without a care in the world. I probably sat for 3 extra minutes watching the belt move around empty before realizing my luggage was not coming. I can't decide what to do - Do I just worry about the lost luggage later and catch my cab in hopes of making that last bus? or do I fill out my lost luggage form and hope I can still make it? I realize there are a lot of people in line for the lost luggage so I go out to find a cab. In my 20 minutes of waiting, 50 people have lined up waiting for taxis - I'll never make it in time. I get back in line for the luggage, tears streaming down my face. While in line, I try to connect to the internet to let my family know I won't be home tonight. When I finally get a signal, I find a message from my sister - "CALL ME NOW!"

I drop to my knees, it was the worst possible message. I know I'm too late. A kind woman asks if she can help and I try to get it together to let her know there is nothing she can do. I manage to type in my sister's cell number on to my iPad and she answers.

Thank God! she says - Christine has hired a driver to take you to Madison. Do not leave the airport!

I made it to Madison at 2:00 am. everyone was sleeping except for my uncle Art. I gave him a quiet hug and crashed on a short hospital couch - my bed for the next 3 weeks.