Meeting My Family

After meeting once again with my daughter after almost 45 years, I felt renewed and blessed in some ways, and also lost emotionally. We had just spent 10 days together getting acquainted, and had had a fabulous time, with lots of smiling and hugging. And a lot of just plain talking.

Then the day came for her to return to her home in Texas. Seeing her walk out to that plane so dejected, and my feeling the same way, life wasn't as rosy as it should have been.

She called that night to let me know she had arrived home safely, and we talked and talked. You wouldn't think we had talked before. We finally said goodbye. But this was the first of almost daily calls between us. AT&T loved us. Occasionally, we sent each other cards with loving messages, but it was mostly the calls that kept us going.

I wanted to take a trip to Texas and meet my new-to-me family. But since I wasn't in the best of health, I had asked my doctor to give me several tests, to make sure I could handle the trip. I was determined not to make the trip without the reassurance of my doctor that I was in reasonably good health.

After several weeks of x-rays and poking on me here and there, I was almost through. But the doctor wanted a mammogram. I passed this test too, and the doctor gave me the go ahead.

I had one other problem; I didn't like to fly. Scared to death really. Just knew if I got on a plane it would either crash or be hijacked. I liked my feet on the ground, well as close to the ground as possible. But there was no way any of my family would let me drive there, so it had to be by air. I finally convinced myself, with Kathy's help, that it would be safe. Ha, Ha, Ha! Famous last words.

On the first leg of the trip out of Michigan you take a really little small plane in comparison with a jumbo jet. It only has 12 or 14 seats, a pilot and co-pilot plus one cabin attendant. You get your choice of drink and peanuts even on these short flights. The seats are close together and not very comfortable. But the great fright for me was the snap, crackle and pop noises coming from the plane at take off and even while flying. The nearest I can come to explaining the sound is, one time we had an old station wagon that shook, rattled and rolled like it would come apart any moment. I thought there must have been someone in the back of the plane peddling his fool heart out, helping the pilot keep the plane flying.

And then when you are going in for the landing, and they adjust the flaps, I was sure I was about to experience that last bounce in life. I never was so glad to see a door open and realize I was still alive.

Just in case you haven't noticed, I have a vivid imagination that has helped and hindered me all my life. Which, by the way, Katherine has.

I landed in Chicago. Now this is a big city. The airport must take up a great part of it. How glad I was that I had arranged for a wheelchair to be waiting when I arrived. I never would have made it to the next flight out. I was wheeled here, there, and yon by a wheelchair pusher (for want of a better name, I didn't know what to call them), who thank goodness knew which gate I needed to get to. I really felt like a dunce when I later found out you are supposed to tip the guy. I didn't, just said thank you. He must have thought I was nuts, or worse. I learned though, and have tipped each one since.

Now this was a plane. Three to four seats in a row, depending where you sat. I wanted no part of a window seat. If disaster was going to come, I didn't want to see it. It was a beautiful flight until the passenger next to me had to open his big mouth and say we were about 7 miles up. I thought I'd die. I can relate to 7 miles. Thirty-five thousand feet doesn't mean squat to me cause I couldn't see anything to worry about there. But when he said 7 miles, I wanted to know where the parachutes were. Did you know they don't have parachutes? Well I didn't. The stewardess reassured me that everything was OK and tried to put me at ease. I'm sure she thought, for awhile, that she would have to peel me off the ceiling of the plane. By this time all those around me were smiling, some laughing outright. Every flight must have their clown and it was my turn.

We finally landed in Texas. Big, beautiful place, even more beautiful because, as I left the plane and looked ahead, there stood my heart. Smiling with her arms open wide. I walked right into them. This gal of mine is a hugger.

I tell you if you really want to feel loved, get yourself a hugger. I have had more hugs since that first day in July than I'd had in a whole lifetime. There's nothing like it in this world to lighten your day and put a smile on your face. So we hugged, hugged and hugged some more. It was wonderful. I firmly believe if there were a few more hugs between husbands and wives every day, there would be less divorce in the world. I know it would have helped me.

Kathy had brought a friend with her and we were introduced, and then we hugged. It's catching once you get started.

Kathy had a big old T-Bird that we cruised in to her home, about 40 miles away. I met her husband and most of the family in the following days, except for her oldest son, who was serving in the Marines in Saudi Arabia. She has a beautiful home; big yard with a dog named Susie, who likes everybody.

I knew Kathy had been ill while she was in Michigan, but now found out that she had cancer. At this time she was going five times a week for chemotherapy. I know all this was hard on her but you wouldn't have known it to look at her or by what she said. She has a smile and a sense of humor that won't stop. The more pain she was in, the more she worked at making me smile. I don't know how she does it. She has a wonderful group of doctors, specialists and technicians all working with her.

There were some good times too. Katherine and her husband took me sightseeing several times. I saw a lot of fascinating buildings, gardens and historical monuments and I made sure I had souvenirs to take back home.

All too soon my 2-week stay had slipped by. We found new things to talk about, trying to crowd a lifetime of memories into this one visit. Her family, and now my family, got better acquainted especially my grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

When the time came for me to leave, it was as hard or harder than when Kathy left to go home. Except this time, it was me taking that walk to the airplane. I wanted to stay, but I knew I couldn't. But I also knew something Kathy didn't. I was coming back. To stay. For as long as she needed me, or longer. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with my newfound daughter. I didn't want to have to give her up again. She loved me and wanted me in her life, which made my having to leave so much easier. I would be back!