Dad and I both woke up in the middle of the night. He was uncomfortable because his hand had swollen up. Not so much painful, but I guess noticeable. It really looked swollen. I’m like, “oh, shit”. We were so close to getting this man home and in the care of his doctors. What if this was a Real Bad Thing and we couldn’t fly? This was our last scheduled night, no more hotels lined up. So I basically lay awake for a big chunk of the night worrying, and he didn’t get that much sleep either.
But he actually felt fine in the morning, so phew. We got up, packed, and went down to the ‘bistro’ (same deal as the other Marriott) and got little omelets, quite good, and coffee.
Finished packing. As planned, I left behind the cooler, a bunch of water bottles, the laundry detergent, the dish soap and the not-great facial cleanser I’d bought to replace the tube the TSA agent had stolen from me (that’s what I get for carrying my toiletry kit in the carryon). Dumped out the rest of the distilled water and left the empty jug behind. So we now had five ‘units’ to account for – two big suitcases, one little over-your-head-type suitcase, my backpack, and Dad’s tote bag (which, of course, he couldn’t carry because one-handed now). I brought my backpack and all the coats/sweaters that weren’t packed to the car in the garage, then brought it out to the curb. (by now it was raining, thanks) Grabbed a cart, upstairs to receive the suitcases and tote bag, much easier to handle than the day before. Down to the car, loaded it up, checked out. Boy, was that the hotel and city of the damned.
Off to tank up, and then to the airport. First, I had to make sure the Avis I picked on the Google navigation was the one at the airport (it was) and Dad asked what I was wondering too, is there a shuttle bus after we drop off the car? Me: big shrug. As it turned out, the Reno airport is small enough that the rental car lots are in a parking garage across the street from the terminal.
When we started checking in for our flights, an innocuous question from the kiosk made me realize that I’d booked us in an exit row, and Dad really should not be sitting in one as he wasn’t able to help people, with an arm out of commission. So we had to go to ‘special services’ to change seats and, although right off the bat, we might have ended up in two middle seats not together, they managed to switch us with a couple checking in right behind us who were delighted to get the exit row. We ended up way back in the back with a middle and an aisle. I worry about flying coach nowadays because I’m a big guy, and a middle seat too? But it ended up not being that bad.
Dad hadn’t thought about it the way I had, but I suspected that getting him through security with his arm brace was going to be an issue, and it was. They were totally nice, but had him remove some outer clothing etc. to see what was going on. Gave me time to gather our stuff post-scanner and reassemble myself before he was done.
The flight from Reno to Dallas was delayed because the plane was delayed coming in, but not for any serious amount of time. One thing I’d liked about our flights over – I usually fly Delta and if they want you to not bring your roller onboard if you can avoid it, they’ll check it for free, but you have to pick it up on the gangway when you leave. American advertised at the gate that you could check the roller with them and they’d just send it to your destination with your other luggage for free, which I’d been counting on. We also decided to attempt to check Dad’s big tote bag, and that worked too. So that meant the only things we had to deal with were coats, my backpack and Dad’s cane.
The flight itself was fine except for the small child who had a meltdown behind us. I took the opportunity to do some knitting and listen to audiobooks and music. (I may not have mentioned, I’d left my Kindle behind at the hotel in San Simeon. So I’d been reading on the Ipad and on the phone until I got home and could order a new one. Every Kindle I’ve ever had I’ve ended up leaving somewhere, like expensive umbrellas. But I’d had this one for a couple of years, no biggie.)
On the trip out, we’d had a shorter-than-comfortable amount of time to get to our second gate in Dallas (and then the plane was delayed for three hours). This time we had plenty of time to make the transfer. (We had to take the terminal shuttle train again.) Once we got there, we picked the barbecue place by the transfer gate to have late lunch/early dinner. (We’re now losing hours quickly because we’re heading east.) This was another one of those ‘buy a fast food meal with plastic cutlery and pay a zillion dollars for it’ situations, but the sandwich I had was pretty good, and by this point, I didn’t much care.
Second flight was right on time, pretty much. I’d done the thing of booking the window and aisle and hoping the middle seat would be empty, and prepared to swap with the middle seat person if necessary. But even though they’d announced that the flight was full, that middle seat stayed empty! Which was a nice little treat for us for the last flight. Although we had a new small child having a meltdown behind us.
(note: I’d kind of scrawled notes for each of these blog posts in real time the day after, but I only did about half this last day, so now I’m working on month-old memory)
I’d always been mildly concerned about our final little leg, as we’d be landing (even if we were on time) pretty late in Raleigh/Durham, about 10:30. Hadn’t thought about the fact that it would only be 7:30 to us, so we were awake and alert, at least. Too late in the evening to force my brother to come pick us up, so I’d been counting on taxi/Uber. No problem getting our luggage, but figuring out where the Ubers picked us up was a bit complicated (but now we know how that works). And we got driven back to Dad’s condo with little fuss by a lovely African woman in a big SUV.
Yay, back home! Dad was energetic enough still to go up the stairs to the 2nd floor (which he does regularly anyway) to get into the apartment and get the keys that operate the elevator, so we could get the luggage up. Julian the cat was very glad to see us.
And we did the bare minimum of unpacking, had a drink and went to bed. And I was so freaking happy I’d safely (for the most part) shepherded my dad safely home.
I actually had to work the next day, but this being the ‘taint of the holidays’, I knew there’d be nothing going on, just one standup meeting and me going through two weeks of emails. Dad went to see his GP to show them all the damage and start that process.
That night, I took Dad and Sam out for a farewell dinner at a new restaurant they’d never been to, kind of barbecue-y sports-y? It was fun.
I also had to work Tuesday morning (New Year’s Eve) only, which worked out nicely timing-wise. And at noon, Sam and Dad drove me to the airport and then I was free to just worry about myself. (and then they went to an orthopedic urgent care. Who knew such a thing existed?) I had lunch at the airport, then had a short and easy flight back to LaGuardia. Happy re-entry into my own home (after over three weeks away) and celebrated New Year’s with a pizza and television.
So that was the trip! I still waffle between, ‘gosh the trip could have been so much better if I’d done more planning and if I’d been watching out for my dad at that crucial moment’ and ‘well, that was actually a lot of fun, we got to do a lot and see places we’d never been, and I got to spend two weeks with my dad and we actually enjoyed that’. I’m especially aware how lucky I am that I still have my dad at his age and that he’s still able to do things like travel, and that I have the resources to make a trip like this happen.
So I’m really glad we did it, and I’m really glad it’s over and I don’t have to worry about it any more.
The Toast Point Page 