The Buddha in my Roll Aboard

 

The last few days were an emotional montanha rusa. As the day to leave got closer, I felt time leaving me like the very end of the ampulheta. I am sure there was one or two life threatening things I forgot to do, beside leaving the wifi network up and running (thank you Keith for running over after work and unplugging it and putting it on the pile of things I left to retrieve in a few weeks when I run up and back to get my visa finalized) The morning I was to leave, Milton called and I melted down, walking around the Ponderosa in my boxers for the last time… all the goodbyes, the papers to be signed, the 1001 little petty things  left to do.  

My nice neighbor knocked on the door on her way to work, and she burst into tears… and that was it…all the tension and worry (my dear friend and Delta Angel Barbara has given me a buddy pass to Rio  for $278.00)… suddenly it was iffy if I was getting on board or not… for those of you  not knowing what a buddy pass is, employees of most airlines can give a cheap ride to friends, The kicker is you are listed on standby, and can get bumped by an airline employee who can of course ride for free. She had called the day before, and was upset as my flight from SMF to ATL was full, only 7 seats open and 5 people on wait list.  

I woke up after a frustrating night of packing and finishing up till 1am at 5am and commenced again, turn down the water heater, turn off the refrigerator… needless to say my morning sit was a failure of epic Buddhist proportions… ­my ADD won out, and tears were flowing like I was a little girl. I was exhausted, and I had hit the wall. 

Steve the Blessed Deacon came @ 8am; its best in crisis to have an Episcopal deacon candidate drive you to the airport.  The gay father  he was, didn’t bat an eye at my running mascara, swollen eyes, and sniff, sniff… and he helped me zip the luggage closed and discretely helped me load the stuff and let me say goodbye to the Ponderosa. He drove me thru the rain to SMF, promising to come get me and insisting I would stay with him and Nelson if I got bumped… 

I checked in, trying not to cry, if I had mascara, I am sure I would have looked like Tammy Faye! The nice gentleman informed me that he thought I had a chance, gave me my passes, and I paid my overweight fine (the big mala was 10 lbs over – note to self ditch it!) and proceeded to the gate. In the security line, they flagged my roll aboard for something sharp… (wtf??? Don’t cry!). It was small, and at the bottom… so we opened everything up, and just below the giant brass Buddha and the zafu was the tiny little folding knife from Marger. (Take it, my bad!). Stuffing things back in I walked to the gate and proceed to pace for 2.5 hours… the Italian gentleman shows up, waved me over and let me know I was now 3 out of 7 (looking good, but that he had to go back downstairs, and that he had left a message for the lady taking over, and to check in with her  when she got there about 40 minutes later.  I did only to find I was now 5 of 7… (wtf? Don’t cry!). Spencer  texting me the whole time (you are doing great Dad!). Barbara called and said she was going to fly to meet me (she lives in Tampa and works at the airport there). She called again, and still no news… the nice blond lady then told me, it looks good, just wait… (Wait for it! Wait for it, don’t cry!). Then she called my name as they were announcing first class and babies to board and handed me my seating assignment… if I got on in SMF, I was assured of getting to Rio. Yes! 

The phone rang, it was Gary and I fell apart again… I am sure he is still wondering if I am OK. So I talked to him in front of the window, so folks wouldn't notice, with the tears streaming from me as I watched the pounding rainstorm outside, and matching it drop for drop! 

Texted Spencer (who gets gold stars for parental support!), I turned off the cell phone, and fell asleep as soon as the plane flew up into the clouds and Sacramento faded away. I slept most of the way to ATL. 

When I entered the terminal in ATL, the angel (dare I say Santa?) Barbara was there waiting for me in terminal B.  The Rio flight was two hours, and a beer away in terminal E. I turned on my cell phone and it would not work… (WTF? Don’t cry!).  No time to go online, and it would have been rude anyway because Santa Barbara had paid my way and came to meet me.  So we took the tram to the gate, checked in – and to my relief there was no problem (90 plus seats open), went to a restaurant, ordered two beers and a plate of fried green tomatoes. She is amazing… 

The time arrived, we went to the gate, and I was the very last standby person – all dreams of flying to Rio in the comfort of business class had faded long ago, I was now willing to sit next to any belabored parent and hold their screaming baby all night by then… so I had dinner and a free glass of wine !  And woke up just as the plane crossed into Venezuela, near Caracas. I have my own two seats on the bulkhead, and tho it is not business class, it feels really good none the less…

As I wrap this up, and feel the need to go back to sleep the map says now we are just kms from Brasil.   I realize that South America is now my home, not my destination.  I live here now. Ahh… wtf, go ahead and cry… 

Namo Buddhaya! Namo Dharmaya! Namo Sanghaya! And Namo Brasilaya!