Between liftoff and landing

7 Jul

I’m in the air right now, somewhere between Nashville and Detroit, where we will connect to our final destination, Los Angeles. Home. And I’m wondering whether any of the other thousands of people aboard hundreds of airplanes around the world might possibly be experiencing the same sort of tiny miracle that I am at this very moment.

Aboard the smallest and saddest Delta aircraft that I have ever set foot on, I sit in row 7 of 12, sandwiched with my husband between our two boys. Angels, it now seems to me, holding us aloft in this great billowing atmosphere.

Moments ago we sat glued by gravity to the tarmac, glued by longing for the farm, our hearts glued indelibly to the memories we’d made here. As our old plane reluctantly picked up speed, we waved Tennessee goodbye and were lifted into the blinding white of a cloud. Our faded aircraft creaked and shook with age or uncertainty while I, myself a bit dubious, cheered silently “I think you can, I think you can, I think you can.” White gave way to blue, and rocking turbulence settled into the peaceful stillness of five hundred miles per hour.

As I released the white knuckled grip on my son to peer out the window, a gasp pushed it’s way from my lungs and I heard myself say to him, “Look son, it’s heaven!” And he agreed.

Heaping scoops of white piled upon white floated effortlessly outside our tiny window. We looked down upon the glorious seams of silver that lined each wooly pile, kissed purple, pink and blue like the tinted quaffs of sweet old grandmas.

As I looked to the right at my husband and youngest son, and to the left at my five year old gazing with wonder out of the window, I breathed in the magic of the moment and, as mothers are prone to do, told myself never to forget this moment.

To use a quote from my husband on the 4th of July (because I just can’t imagine a better way to say it myself), I have the feeling that “right now there is nothing wrong in the world.” Flanked by all of my angels, still tacky from the humid summer air, there is a knowing – a deep and undeniable certainty – that this is exactly the feeling that I had hoped we would bring home with us.

Because sometimes, leaving a piece of yourself behind is just the thing you need to remind you that home is exactly where you are.

2 Responses to “Between liftoff and landing”

  1. Trina July 7, 2011 at 9:44 pm #


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