Dear Friends and Family,
With Nancy working as a flight attendant for over thirty years, I have often joked that I could drive to the airport blindfolded.
In our early married years before the 9/11 tragedy, I would wait for her at the gate whenever possible. It was so romantic to have her stroll down the jetway and into my arms. It felt like we were in a Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy movie. Our passionate hugs were soon replaced by those with Jaret and Jayna, who would jump up and down as Nancy deplaned, screaming “Mommy, Mommy!” before leaping into her outstretched arms.
Even after access to the gate became a distant memory, it was still special to pick up Nancy after she had been working for several days in far-off cities. It is safe to say that airports in general, and Salt Lake City International Airport in particular, have always been an integral part of our family’s makeup. However, as I drove to the airport today, I could not recall ever feeling more nervous anticipation.
When Jayna emerged from the door outside the baggage claim area, time stood still. Even though it had only been two months since I had last seen her, in the few seconds I had to observe her from afar before she met my eyes, waved, and sprinted to our car, she appeared years older and more mature. Anyone who saw us must have wondered what was going on. We hugged and clung to each other not speaking a word, but both of us had tears flowing down our faces not in single drops but rather in rivers, our bottled up emotions finally having a safe outlet. The security guard approached to tell me to move my car, but seeing Jayna’s face first and then catching my glance, waved his hand in a “never-mind” gesture.
After several minutes of clinging tightly to one another, Jayna spoke, “Can we go the hospital?”
When we entered the room, Nancy was snoring. Jayna looked at me and gave me a “thumbs up” gesture as if to say, “She doesn’t look so bad.” I was so very glad she hadn’t seen her mom twenty-four hours earlier.
Before I could make up my mind whether or not I should awaken her, Nancy opened her eyes, raised her eyebrows, and extended her arms. Jayna was soon lying beside her mom, her head resting on her mom’s chest. Nancy’s nurse entered the room, looked at the scene, handed me a pill to give Nancy later, and left quickly.
Jayna simply lit up the room for both Nancy and me.
The rest of the evening was joyous. The chatter was nonstop, like preteens at a slumber party. Nancy stayed up a full two hours catching up on Jayna’s exploits even though she was tired from the day’s ordeal. Jayna kissed her mom’s cheek and after noticing her mother’s difficulty in keeping her eyes open said, “Mom, you’re tired. Close your eyes. I will be here when you wake up.” Seconds later, Nancy’s body made a now familiar jerk that told me she was already in a deep slumber.
Summary: A small amount of order has returned to our world. Our family is reunited once again; Jayna arrived home this afternoon.
The very best,
Winnie