Brenna’s Blog

Leaving August 29, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — brenna @ 1:24 pm

Matt (at the airport, feigning desperation): You can’t leave. I told you I love you. That means you can’t leave…I’m pregnant! You can’t leave!
Brenna: I am so putting that on the blog.

For the record, he is not. And I left. I was doing okay in the security line. Okay, that is a lie. I was crying in the security line. But I was doing marginally okay until a security agent redirected the mile long line, quickly pushing me towards an elevator. The hour-long wait had suddenly evaporated.

When I left for Thailand last year, I walked away from Matt, my dad, and my roommate with little more than a shaky smile. This time, I think I frightened the group of small children standing next to me when the elevator doors closed. Still, there is some relief in having the goodbye moment over with. We’ve only been staring down this day for a year. Now it’s done. I’m alive. The world appears to still be turning. Could it be that for now at least I’m…fine?

I sighed in resignation when I reached my plane seat. 41 F. The window seat in the very last row of the plane. Bring on the peanuts and claustrophobia. No one was sitting next to be yet, but I was quite sure based on how the day was going that they would be chatty. I was so very not in the mood for chatty. My neighbors did turn out to be marginally chatty, but I was the one initiating all the chatting with a husband and wife from Cancun and their adorable almost two year old. It worked out quite well, since my Spanish is at just about two year old level.

Brenna: Mira! Avion!
Cute little girl: Mama!

The girl was thrilled by each plane outside the window, naming them by size. “Avion bebe! Avion papa!” Also fun, her parents taught her that she was controlling when the planes were coming. We would watch out the window for the planes, then tell her to concentrate. She’d put her fingers to her temples and scrunch her face. Then she’d make a little ding noise and wave her finger like a wand. The plane would appear on cue, and she’d giggle.

I had the window seat, so eventually, I convinced her to crawl onto my lap and look outside. She pressed her face to the window, sighing slightly in awe of the clouds (nubes). I felt the weight of her in my lap. Then bounced in turbulence, and she laughed and laughed. I conspired with her parents to help her summon the turbulence. I’d watch for clouds, and then we’d tell her to concentrate. She’d wave her finger, “Ding!” Thump. “Ding!” Thump. Then she’d laugh and laugh until everyone around us was smiling. How could you not?

As we walked off the plane, I leaned in towards another girl on my team, “I needed that.” “Better than a teddy bear,” she answered. Indeed.


One Response to “Leaving”

  1. Marsh Says:

    So, where do I get a two-year-old to hold? I really need one.

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