I got up at O My Gawd 3:30 am on Saturday morning for a 6 am flight departure from Bradley to Dulles in Washington DC. I haven’t flown since Ireland in 2008 and not really sure of all the hullabaloo that goes into it nowadays, even though I spent HOURS reading through TSA’s suggestions and rules.
I left the house and my puppies and kitty behind before 4:40 and threw the carry-on suitcase in the back of Figure (the rogue!) and the backpack on the seat next to me and 20 minutes later, pulled up to Bradley. It’s so easy since 291 was built… damn, I’m aging myself again!
It cost $25. a day to park! Park in 2D, and remember that! Not a long walk to United (breaks guitars) and get my ticket then on to security.
https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=youtube+united+breaks+guitars
I wore my white sneakers with Velcro instead of laces. Much quicker on and off. But when you forget that your car/house keys are in your pocket, you fail the metal detector. Embarrassed by myself, thirsty and tired, I shuffled off towards the gate. Very little was open and the little booths that were did not have bottled coke so I just kept going.
In order to not PAY EVEN MORE for the flight, my seat was the last row, aisle. I like the aisle, but the rear of the plane is a little more, how shall we say? Bumpy? No problem. I thought sure since I’d have to traverse the entire length of the plane that I would not be among the last to board. Was I wrong. And it was a darn-near full flight.
I got a coke from the beverage service and sucked it down before we landed. I don’t I think I’ve ever been to Dulles before. It’s quite large. Eventually, I got to where the shuttles pick up and after waiting a bit got on the one to the Hilton to get BRANDON!!!!
If I’d been thinking I would have picked up the car first, but naturally I didn’t, so Brandon came with me to Hertz. But the Dulles Hilton is incredibly ritzy. Very impressive.
The midget car I’d reserved was not going to be very comfortable, so I upgraded and we got a Chevy somethingorother, that was plenty big for us. Then I handed over my phone to Brandon and he navigated us pick up Ramona. With Mom C’s oldest friend on board, off to Pohick Episcopal Church Cemetery, where the FBI are holding an active shooter drill. And we’re burying Mom C.
The four eldest were there: Dar, Mel, Me and George and her two oldest grands: Porter and Brandon. Dar had picked up the marker stone and next thing I know, George has a TROWEL out and Porter starts digging up the grass for the stone. No, we didn’t have to dig the grave, the small sondage for the urn was there, covered by a small wooden plank with a cross on it. Porter was digging up for the stone.
It really was funny and we all laughed about it.
George and Porter digging:
Porter set the stone:
The Urn, Roses and a picture of Mom and Dad from the Bicentenial (I love it and have a copy!). Notice the little wooden covering over the grave.
Then the priest arrived, Irish, funny, and really nice. The graveside service is all of 5 minutes, and we had gathered from Florida, Connecticut, Georgia, South Carolina and Pennsylvania. For 5 minutes.
No, to see Mom and Dad C reunited, together again, at last. As we stood there I had flashbacks to 41 years ago, in the cold, damp February as we’d laid Dad’s body to rest. It came back vividly, the pain and the pride. The pain of loss and the pride that these two people had welcomed me in their home and hearts. Had given me a safe landing in a turbulent time. How much I love and admire them, both.
Let’s not get maudlin here.
We caravanned over to a wonderful restaurant, Hometown Grill, for a delightful lunch/brunch and spent over 2 hours laughing and talking and eating too much. I was tempted to get a mimosa, there was certainly enough food to absorb the alcohol, but nope, more caffeine in the form of coke.
We had time to kill (so to speak!) and Ramona told us about the second Air and Space Smithsonian museum near Dulles. She used to be a docent at the version in Washington proper. It made sense and felt right to go to the new one now. 41 years ago, we’d trooped into downtown D.C. and spent most of a day at Air and Space there.
So, George, Porter, Brandon and I met at the new one and spent not long enough but a couple of hours anyway going through it. The Discovery is there (space shuttle) and one of the SSTs, the surviving one. The Glamorous Glynnis, first mach1, Chuck Yeager’s rocket, the B-17 that dropped the first atomic bomb, and lots of really cool old aircraft.
Porter, George and Brandon
I was looking for a Lockheed Electra but didn’t find
one. George didn’t know why I’d want to
see one of them, and I promptly broke into Mark O’Donnell’s wonderful “Here’s
to Amelia Earhart, first lady of the sky…”
George’s grin was a sweet reward. Wish I could find a recording...
Well, too soon it was time to say good-bye to them, and we hugged very tightly, promising to stay in touch and get together, as a family, camping.
Brandon and I went back to his hotel (that fancy-shamancy Hilton) and sat in the car with the engine and air on and talked for a while. He doesn’t know how special he is, and not just because he’s my nephew, he’s just an incredible person. I am sooo lucky with my niece and nephews. God is very good to me.
We were both tired and he had to get up early for his flight and I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time before my flight so…
I should have worn my step tracker, I swear I walked 10 miles between airports, museums, etc. I was BEAT by the time I made it to the gate, which of course was the last one in the terminal and furthest away. Where are those little electric carts when you need them?
Mel and I had swapped over, but instead of lightening my load, 20 pounds of White Lily Self-Rising flour added to mine (you just can’t find that up here). And I really must find myself another carry-on. This one, which I love, is 25 years old and although I’ve replaced the wheels, it just doesn’t roll like it used to and it’s heavy to drag around.
Sunset from the scooter between terminals: picture doesn't do it justice.
Again, I was in the rear of the plane, next to last row. Flight wasn’t quite as full, the landing was a bit squirrely (scary) and it was a looonnnggg walk to the car. I kept having to hit the lock button to find Figure because I forgot it was row D, but that worked and with no traffic I was home before 12:30.
Flying is very noisy, and I drank a lot of fizzy coke. I was grateful for the plane noise as what goes in must come out. Sound only, thank heavens, but lots of it.
The fur kids were delighted to have me home, the pups didn’t want to go out until they’d properly been greeted and loved on, and then I discovered that although they’d been fed, neither one had eaten their suppers. They missed me.
I was basically worthless yesterday. Saturday was as it was supposed to be: sad, funny, sweet and wonderful.
sláinte
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