Checking in (and out again)

I’ve pushed my damp clothes into the plastic ice bag I find on the desk, tossed the litter lying about my hotel room, folded the clean clothes and laid them in neat piles one on top of the other, shoes at the bottom. I poked the dirty ones in a mesh shoe bag and zipped them into an outer compartment of my black bag. Papers slipped in next to them, my hotel receipt and restaurant, taxi and parking, too so I can locate them for billing once home. I look up my flight confirmation number, confirm check in online and slip those papers in an outer, easy to reach pocket of my purse. My novel, glasses and a roll of tums in my purse, too. I check for liquids, look for my boarding pass again, just to be sure. I slip on my easy off shoes, sleep my computer, zip and slip it onto my shoulder and off go into the taxi. Sweaty and tired from the scramble to leave, the taxi ride is over before I get the ten dollar bill out of my wallet.

At the airport there’s bags, the check-in and a jumbled security line. A woman in an electric wheelchair with two pink ear bowed dogs and another with a mewing cat in a carrier. All of us witness one another pull it all out, falling apart in public and calmly reassemble. Locate the boarding pass, arthritic fingers dislodge ID from a tight clear wallet compartment, hold it in my teeth for a moment, the bag plops to the floor off the shoulder, the unzipped purse, the open computer bag, three bins for jacket, purse, computer gets its own, shoes off, hopping about, pass through. I got all the liquids out this time, no knife and no nail scissors. Pile it on both shoulders, hanging from hands arms and barefoot shuffle to a nearby chair and sit next to barefooted old men and two small women I don’t know. We pack it all up again. Assemble ourselves for travel, pretend the exposure never happened. Slip, poke, jab, zip and pull shoes over heels. Ahh. Ready to go. Then put it all down to use the bathroom in the tiny stall with a broken bag hook. Back home. Less trouble to walk!

Your mommy and daddy moved, packed and poked thing in places to leave your old house. It was all assembled for your little life. Dishes, pots, pans, tissues, garbage can, sink plug, tub soap trays and towel rack. All there, then your mommy wanted to leave. Time to go. Push, pack, drag, shove, pile, toss and go. Bye. I purchased it all again- pots pans dishes glasses soap trays towel racks spoons forks and other things all over again. Because they left it in Montana. All used, days of searching going through piles of things to find what you all need. There. You are ready to live here again. But not in you little place. The cabin is where me and Grandpa live as we fix the old house. It got broken. Let’s not do that again, okay? I wonder, buddy, where are those pans, pots, soap trays and forks? Where did they go?

Let’s all just stay awhile okay?  I will, too.  I promise.  gma

One thought on “Checking in (and out again)

  1. My heart is overflowing for the love you have to share gmb. May I have so much love, patience and joy to share too.


Leave a Reply