Grandma Henke

If I’d have been on the outside looking in I might have laughed myself silly at how discombobulated I was at the Seattle airport.    It was like an old time comedy routine.

I like to check my bag at the curb (I mean the darn thing always weighs the closet to 50 pounds that I can get).   I had to bum some money off my son in law so I’d have some change to tip with and not have to give him a $20.00 and ask for change.   I hate when that happens.   So Brett dutifully supplied me with dollar bills and quarters and explained what I needed to do.   I put it all carefully in my little money purse with my $20.

So … we get to the airport and they drop me at the curb.   Saying goodbye is hard, four sad little faces and me trying not to cry.   I got up to check in my suitcase and I am carrying my computer bag packed full of electronics and prescriptions and cosmetics (I use it as my carry-on).   I had a purse with a bunch of zippers and compartments, and then I had my fifty pound suitcase.    A nice twenty-fivish man is there to help me so I hand him my online paperwork and he finds my ticket, marks my luggage and sends it on its way and then asks for my Identification … which is hard to find in my multi compartmented purse.

While I am looking for my Identification I am also looking for my purple coin purse so I can give him his dollars and be on my way but it is nowhere to be found.   I pulled everything out and there absolutely was no coin purse.    So I look at this nice young man and say, “I am so sorry.   I must have left my coin purse at my daughter’s.  I don’t have any money to tip you.”    He says, “It isn’t a tip, mam, it’s a charge by the airlines and it’s $2.00.”

My face must have showed my dismay.   I had started to sweat and was shoving stuff back in my purse.    “I don’t have any money at all,” I tell him.   “Not even for a drink of water.”   (Talk about pathetic.)   My luggage is already gone, thank goodness, so there is no turning back … at least I hope there isn’t.

“Just go ahead and don’t worry,” he says.   “I’ll pay it for you myself.”

By now I am tearing up … I was barely holding them back when I said goodbye to the kids.    “I’m really sorry,”  I tell him.   “I wish you didn’t have to pay it for me but I do appreciate your help.”

“It’s okay … no problem.”    (“Just go.”) he’s thinking.

So I go inside and am looking for Gate D … and see a sign pointing and start down this hall and a lady comes running up and says, “Where are you going?”

“Gate D … to Las Vegas” I reply kind of wincing … wondering if they are going to haul me off after all.

“You have to go through here, dear”, and she leads me back to the check point.

It’s not like I haven’t done this before but suddenly it’s like I’ve never seen an airport in my life.    I pull out my computer, my prescriptions and put them in a basket and put my purse in the other basket and walk through the arch.    Whistles and bells start clanging and lights are going off.

“Uh mam, you have to take off our shoes, your jacket, and whatever you have in your pockets.”

Blushing, I mutter, “Oh, I’m so sorry.   I don’t travel very much.   I’m sorry.”  Tears are still glistening in my eyes but thank goodness so far they have stayed there.

Suddenly there are two people helping me and one of them says, “Oh now it’s not that bad.   There is a first time for everyone.   It’s not that hard.”

I reach down to pat my pockets and there is my cellular phone and … my coin purse!

“Oh thank goodness,”  I exclaim.    “I found my coin purse!   I thought I’d lost my money and couldn’t get a drink of water.”     Don’t ask me why water was suddenly so important to me.

So these two people help me gather up all my stuff, offer to help me put on my shoes even!

“Now do you know where you are going,” as they proceed to give me directions like there weren’t signs all over pointing to Gate D.

I shuffled off and all I could think of was, “I want my Mama!”

It must have been fate but I ended up sitting by two men with deep voices … two very tall men.    One of them put my computer up above and asked me if I needed anything … it turns out he is over the security of several NFL stadiums.    The other guy was a Vietnam Veteran who had been a gunner on a helicopter.     The things they talked about would have turned anybody’s hair white!      I had the window seat and just kept thinking, “Well if we go down these two will surely save me.” … while I prayed I wouldn’t have to go potty and ask them both to stand up.

I think all the distractions were good, though, because it was a bumpy flight and I was too worried about everything else to even get sick.    I arrived safe and sound (well not exactly sound) and what a relief it was to get to the luggage pick up and find my man had already located my luggage and was waiting for me with open arms.    I almost wondered if the pilot had called ahead and arranged it.

So there you go, Kim, I’m home.   You can quit worrying.