What I Have Learned - Take Thirty-Nine

I have learned that sometimes I am totally, and completely, helpless.

This past March we had our worst (hopefully worst ever, and never have to go through anything like it) flight experience.  My kids were flying home from Florida, where their Father lives.  They sent me a text message telling me they were on board and getting ready for take-off.  I told them I loved them, see them in a little while, and hope their flight went well.  I got in my truck and was on my way to the airport.  Their flight usually takes about the same time amount of time as me getting to the airport, getting my pass to the gate, going through security, and getting settled at the gate.  I like to be sure I am there in plenty of time, so I will always be the first thing they see when they get off the plane.


As I get into the airport parking garage, I receive a text from my son.  A text.  From my son.  The one who is supposed to be in-flight on his way here.  I read the text, it said 'we are at the airport'.  I thought 'WHAT?'.  I texted him back and asked what he was talking about.  He said they had to come back to the airport, something was wrong with the plane, they had to make an emergency landing.  My heart sank.  I couldn't breathe.  Tears just filled my eyes.  Words I never thought I would hear, couldn't have imagined hearing, yet here they were 'there is something wrong with the plane' followed by the words 'emergency landing'.


I ran into the airport, went straight to the ticketing counter.  The woman, not so politely, told me I needed to get in line and pointed to the line of about 20 people.  I, in a very panicked way, told her I received a text from my son saying there was something wrong with his plane and they had to make an emergency landing.  I needed information.  I wasn't moving, I think she may have sensed that.  She brought me to another computer terminal and asked for the flight information.  All her computer showed was that the plane had taken off and returned to the airport for 'mechanical difficulties'.  She had no further information.  No further information.  Nothing. 


I got my pass and went through security, hoping maybe someone at the gates would have more information.  Something, anything.  My kids thankfully had their cell phones.  They had no information other than they were being let off the plane because it needed to be checked out.  Their Father had already left the airport.  They were there, alone, and afraid.  And here I was, 1400 miles away, unable to help them, unable to comfort them, unable to even BE with them. 


I kept checking with the gate attendants, no further information.  The kids weren't being told anything.  I had never felt so helpless in my entire life.  My kids were hungry, and sadly, had no cash on them.  I asked the people at the gate if there was any way I could charge food for them over the phone, have one of their agents in Florida explain the situation to one of the food establishments.  Their answer 'no'.  Finally a sweet family saw the kids alone and gave them money.  I told the kids to get their name and address and I would send them back the money, they graciously refused repayment. 


About an hour passed.  We finally got word that they were sending another plane for them.  Eventually, that other plane arrived, picked up my children, and safely delivered them to me here in San Antonio.  The kids were almost four hours late arriving.  Four hours of pure hell.  Four hours I never wish to repeat, for as long as I live.

I thank God my children made it home safely that day.  I am thankful my children had their cell phones.  I am thankful for perfect strangers who saw kids in need and opened their hearts, and wallets, and came to their rescue. 

But I still cry when I think about that day.  My children were in trouble, miles away, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to fix the situation.  I am their Mother, I am supposed to be able to protect my children and take care of them.  I am supposed to ALWAYS be able to make things better.  But that day I learned a difficult lesson, it doesn't always work that way.  And on that March afternoon, I was totally, and completely, helpless.