Saturday, January 20, 2007

Family Vacation

I'm writing this from Aruba. I know, poor me...sun, beach, pool, casino...Went today with Jax, Glenn, Skylar and Doug, something Jimmy and I talked about doing and probably this would have been the year.

In many ways it's a good thing we never took a family vacation with our adult kids. This is new territory. We're making new memories.

Skylar is 2 years and nine months and as we stepped on to the plane I heard groans from the passengers as they prayed we'd sit anywhere but near them. Kids on a plane is almost as bad as 'Snakes on a Plane.' Actually, snakes may be slimy, but they don't
scream out,

"I have to go pottie! Right now!"

Other than the normal kid stuff Sky was a perfect passenger and less noisy than the snorer behind me. I sat on the aisle across from Jackie and next to a couple in their sixties. (she was 60 - snuck a peek at her immigration form)

She was so sweet and sincerely interested in what her boring husband 'James' (yes, kill me now) had to say that I was 30% impressed and 70% nauseated. I tried to be honest with myself as I wondered, 'Did I listen to Jimmy so intently and respond this kindly to him?'

It reminded me of the conversation I had a few days ago with my friend Cathy, a widow for eight years.

"Howie and I were such kids. If I found someone today
I don't think I could ever love him as much, but I know I'd be kinder.
I wouldn't yell at him,

"You're fat, stupid and your mother's insane!"

I watched the woman next to me put her head on her husband's shoulder and I panicked, afraid at some point during the flight the fact might come up that the only shoulder I had to lean on was the arm rest. I looked around. Three in a row on Jet Blue, but a pair in each row.

Jimmy and I always held hands during take off and landing. It began at the beginning - on our honeymoon. The flight attendant sensed we were on our honeymoon and brought over a small bottle of champagne. Ever since then we held hands hoping for at least an extra bag of peanuts.

As our plane's pace quickened down the runway for lift off, my wonderful, sensitive daughter reached over to hold my hand. Nice, nice start.

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