My pandemic mindset has gradually transformed from one of outright panic to one of acceptance. Expending energy on the what-ifs and why-don't-they-justs is not worth it. The never-ending news cycle about Covid-19 and all-things-related is relentless and rarely breaking. There is absolutely no reason to tune in to news more than once a day, if that. It’s more of the same and it’s not good.
I have learned that the doomsday thinking the media propagates is rarely productive. And it is possible to get some perspective on our present situation and see that, for most of us, it’s not quite as dire as we make it out to be.
I'll never forget the day we missed our flight from Hawaii back to the US for our summer break. We were living in China, had just completed the adoption of our second daughter, and we had to (what a travail!) spend several days in Hawaii on the way back to the continent in order to apply for their American citizenships. In between all the paper work, we somehow managed to have a fun-filled time on Oahu where the sky was blue, the ocean was warm and everywhere we went, people smiled at our lovely, new multicultural family. It felt a little bit like heaven might.
Perhaps in all the euphoria (or cacophony) of being a new parent, I somehow mistook the time in which we were meant to depart for Seattle. My memory was that we left at two o'clock in the afternoon, so at nine that morning, after a leisurely breakfast, I went online to confirm our flight was on time. My reaction was unmitigated panic upon seeing our scheduled flight was boarding AT THAT VERY MOMENT!
My frontal lobe went into overdrive. In the midst of wandering toddlers, giggling and with their breakfast still all over their chubby cheeks and pudgy hands, child accoutrements flung everywhere, suitcases open and ready to be packed, I took control as though flying a jet plane out of a hurricane. The children were shoved into the Pack and Play along with all their toys fluffy toys, I had Don find me all possible phone numbers to Delta Airlines and its affiliates along with our credit card company's contact. I started to work the phone like a vacuum salesperson on commission and a deadline. Every time I explained the situation to yet another service representative, I came up empty.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. There’s nothing I can do.”
“I can’t transfer you to my supervisor: I am the supervisor.”
“There are no available flights until next week. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it that you have a wedding to attend. Everything is fully booked.”
“You should have checked. You are going to have to pay full price for new tickets and the summer season is in high swing.”
“You understand you will have to pay a penalty for not arriving at the flight.”
Each conversation I had was worse than the last, and our hotel checkout time was in two hours. Don had been working the internet while trying to attend to our two demanding toddlers, and there was no room left in Hawaii for under 300 dollars a night.
Following the heart-thudding shock of the unsolvable situation, came the outrage, then the tears, and finally the resignation arrived. When I was finally breathing at a normal rate and had collapsed like a rag doll after all the surging adrenaline of the last hour, I sensed a shift inside of me. I was powerless to control the situation. Once that was acknowledged, a quiet certitude took over.
I put on a bra under my pajamas, slipped into my flip flops, shoved the passports into my backpack, and told Don to pack the bags, get them on a trolley and be ready to grab one girl under each of his arms when I called. I left the hotel, took a taxi to the airport, and allowed the wiser, calmer me to continue communing with the frenetic Leah. By the time I entered the airport, I was breathing easier, though still concerned that we would be spending our year's savings on another week in Hawaii and another set of four tickets.
I lined up in the "people with problems" aisle and listened to people yell and threaten and harass the man behind the counter. I was impressed that he took each insult and verbal molestation in stride, dealing with everyone efficiently and kindly. I watched people leave, one by one, as if hypnotized. He appeared to be the angry-passenger whisperer.
When my time came, I stepped up to the counter, took a deep breath, and broke into a Niagara of tears. When I came up for air, he carefully edged his way in to my monologue of sobs with a respectful, "May I ask you two questions, ma'am?"
I nodded in between my heaving sobs and kerfuffling.
"Is anyone dead?"
I took a massive blow into an-already used up tissue and resorted to the sleeve of my shirt for my undignified response.
"No," I heaved.
"Good, then. Question two: has anyone lost a limb?"
I let out a small guffaw. "No, sir."
"There you go, then. Let's start from there, shall we?"
Let’s start from there, indeed. I managed to pull myself together and recount my story. He listened intently, taking notes and uh-huhing at all the right places.
"I have a third question."
"Yes?"
"Are you packed?"
"Pretty close."
"Fourth question: can your husband and daughters get themselves here within the next hour and a half?"
"I think so," I snuffled.
"Last question."
"Shoot."
"Are you prepared to stop on three Hawaiian Islands before landing in Seattle?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Let's plug this in, then."
He tapped into his computer furiously for a few minutes and announced, "You'll arrive in Seattle at two pm tomorrow. I'm afraid it's going to cost you three hundred extra dollars. I wish I could do better for you. Is that acceptable?"
Acceptable? We were landing three hours earlier than the flight we were actually scheduled to be since the missed flight had a five hour stopover, and he had just saved us our retirement savings.
"Yes, it's acceptable, very acceptable," I answered thankfully.
End of story, pretty much. We got home. We had a wonderful summer. Our Chinese daughters became American citizens. We went back home to China and carried on with our happy little lives.
Lesson learned? Unless someone is dead or missing a limb, it's not worth getting your knickers in a knot over. Things work themselves out.
Thank you, behind-the-counter Delta man. You taught me a valuable lesson that day that I've never forgotten. Aloha style.
My job is to remind myself that for most of us most of the time it's small potatoes. If nobody's dead and nobody's missing a limb, I’m going to try and enjoy the ride, even if it’s a bit rocky these days.
PS: My daughters are now 14 and 16, and since the "Hawaii Incident" I have caused our family to miss three more international flights! I have each time channeled the angel-disguised-as-a-Delta-customer-service representative, and managed to get us on the next flight out without any extra expenditure. Clearly, however, I require a personal assistant!
