Column: Years since my last trip, but it feels like yesterday

I haven’t traveled for about eight years, yet it seems like yesterday. It’s hard to believe that time goes that fast, and hard to believe that so much has changed in that amount of time. I used to fly to New York and Ohio every year when I lived in California. It was always exciting and fun, and I always looked forward to it. This time, I am feeling trepidation.

In my news junkiness I notice that every single day there is a crisis with one plane or another, either with something mechanical, a passenger, or problem with too many planes being in the same place at the same time. I am nervous about flying.

Tickets are horrendously expensive. You now pay for taking your luggage along, and your seat, and in return, receive no food or drink. It’s a long trip. There are long delays, and many cancellations. I have ordered a wheelchair for the first time in my life, at one of the large airports because I’m not sure I can walk a mile fast enough to get to that next taking off place. It’s enough to worry a worrier like me to death. 

Besides that, the animals must be boarded. I’m sure they will be worried and miss me, and there are expenses at the other end of the trip, all this to see family and friends. And therein lies the rub, for the desire to do so is stronger than the anti-anticipation of flying. 

My mind won’t let up. Will the sauerkraut I worked so hard on be overly ripe before I get back…poor planning on my part. Will the 10-foot-tall sunflowers that are bending down with the weight of seeds, fall on the garden fence and break it, or should I cut them down now?

Will my carry-on fit in the overhead bin, and how will I get it up there. I’m strong, but not that strong. Why am I getting homelier every day? These people haven’t seen me in years. Will they notice? A true worrier can start months before the actual trip.

Next comes the as soon as nightmare. As soon as I get back, I’m going to, in no uncertain order, reorganize the other side of the garage, clean and organize the barn, clean out all the garden boxes, test their soil and add what they need for next year, plant garlic, get rid of a whole ton of stuff I know right this minute I don’t need, and re-establish my regular routine. When that is finished, I’m looking forward to doing what I want to do, like playing music and painting…maybe by next spring.

Silly me. When it’s all said and done, I will hug my family and friends and have a wonderful time. With a little bit of luck, a whole lot of guilt-laying and a few promises, maybe I can get them to come to see me next time.