The One Hour Flight

I’ve lost count of the number of flights I’ve taken from San Francisco to Southern California, whether for business, pleasure or a simple trip to the in-laws. They are simple in nature, straight forward, no fuss – that is until SFO shuts down a runway, as soon as the wheels lift for take off they seem to be dropping for landing, you don’t cringe if you get the middle seat since it’s only an hour flight, etc. However, all these images change when I take this same flight with two kids under five “sans” Ron. To make matters worse, I decide it is time to save money and skimp on buying my 21 month old a seat. I agree…not my brightest moment.

The truth is I am panicking inside and close to petrified of how I am going to make it home with not only myself intact, but my kids too. This feeling set in three days before the big event, which gave me the courage to stop, recognize the need to ask for help not only for myself, but my children. It sounds so simple when I type the words in black in white, but it is nothing but simple. It is an emotional game of ice hockey in my brain (do I; don’t I…).

This was a huge step for me. It was the first time I asked a complete stranger for help. It wasn’t even a stranger really; it was a huge corporation that has processes in place for people like me. There is a form with a box that reads – sight impaired / blind. It was at this moment that the tears started flowing. I was so grateful for Grandpa’s kind gesture as he handed me his hankerchief and soft touch to my shoulder telling me everything is going to be okay without saying a word. I was grateful that Noah did not see his mommy crying. I was grateful to the kind soul behind the JetBlue counter who was doing everything in his power to make this flight as easy and seamless as possible.

The good news is that we all survived the one-hour flight home. I graciously accepted JetBlue’s assistance, which constituted of the following:

• Allowing my father-in-law to accompany the kids and me to the gate

• Upon arrival, supervisor escort from the plane to baggage

• Supervisor helped secure baggage and escorted us curbside to meet our car

• The supervisor was a second set of eyes to help with the children and just navigate a high traffic international airport

I’ve done it. I can check it off my list. The truth of the matter is I don’t know who was more scared about flying alone with the two kids, Ron or me. You could have a field day arguing each one, but at the end of the day I survived. This is the message that I need to keep telling myself. There will be a million new experiences just like this one as my eyes continue to deteriorate, but I will survive. Remember, it is just a simple one-hour flight, not the end of the world.