Sometimes life’s a bitch and you just want to slap her. But then you remember why you’re here. To love, help, and heal the world that is within your reach.
Or at the very least, like the Hippocratic oath suggests, “to do no harm.”
Today, wow did I want to slap her silly. After months of planning, anticipating, and dreaming of this long awaited trip Across the Pond, we arrived at the airport, only to find that the first class seats we had booked were no longer ours. Apparently the plane originally intended for our flight had 28 such seats. The one that is actually waiting for us at our gate has 16. Someone, somewhere, randomly decided that we, along with 10 other passengers, could move a little closer to the back of the airbus.
We’d decided to cash in all of our mileage chips for our seats because (A) It is a retirement celebration for Tom and his glorious career, and (B) I’ve been rehabbing my hip and the ability to actually lay down for a good portion of the overnight flight would “do no harm.”. Sitting is harder than almost anything.
The agents at the gate were gracious and kind messengers of a disappointing message. I’d hate to have their job. As we were about to board the plane we learned that we had been downgraded even further, and found ourselves shuffling even farther to the back of the plane. The good news? We were closer to the bathroom. The bad news? We were closer to the bathroom.
To say that some of our fellow travelers were more than a little ticked off is putting it mildly, and in many ways, I can’t say that I blame them. Getting anywhere is hard enough without any additional troubles. But as I consider where we are headed, and the fact that in a few days we will be standing in the midst of the horror that was Dachau, it is hard to take this all too seriously.
Tonight as we settle our road-weary selves into our sweet Airbnb in Munich I can’t be anything but grateful. Our hosts met us at the curb, helped us in with our luggage, and took groceries out of their own car so that we could end our day enjoying a little wine, salami and crackers....well...mercy me.
As I said in my earlier post, Traveling Mercies, we are, all of us, trying to make our way from here to there, hopefully as best we can. That includes the gate agents, our fellow travelers, and the somebody, somewhere who decided who would get what seat.
Traveling mercies my friends.
Traveling mercies.