At the Arrival Gate

Donald's back in town, and we're staying on Vineland Avenue this time around. We've come back to our roots, back to roost.

This visit was arranged at the last minute, mom booked his flight on Sunday and he arrived three days later. It's hard to explain the planning, the neurotic panic, that goes into preparing these visits from my tiny, second floor Providence apartment when we have months of notice. With only days to plan, the pressure was on! Dad coming to town requires finding a place to stay that doesn't mind taking in two long-term guests. It means packing up my own suitcase though I'm only going a town or two over: work and play clothes, hair products, laptop, kindle, cameras, phone charger, glasses (forgot those!). This time around the pre-visit planning also involved finding a dog-sitter willing to live in the aforementioned apartment and to take care of the pup I have raised to be as needy and high maintenance as any self-respecting Yorkie could be. Stepping up to the plate to do some of the heaviest lifting this time around are: Meghan on dog duty (or "Mamma Meghan" as Pax would call her- if, ya know, he wasn't a dog and could talk), and Tawn and Sarah offering up the accommodations. Since travel plans were made at the last minute, having a manager that understands the complex nature of Donald's needs has been invaluable- I put in for vacation time twelve hours before taking two and a half days out of the office. It truly does take a village to pull it all off. We were one busy village in the days leading up to Donald's recent arrival. Unsettled, and rushing until the minute he landed...

Then, suddenly, I was there again. Standing, nervously awaiting the moment that I'd see dad wheeled into the glass elevator at T.F. Green Airport. In just a few minutes I would see his smiling face and in that instant, if only for a moment, the stress and anxiety of the weeks or days before would melt away. I was one person in a crowd of more than fifty people I had never met, and though we were "strangers", at the arrival gate that word is synonymous with "family" because we were all in this together; we looked each other in the eyes, smiled and talked as we waited to hug and kiss our loved ones. I stood amongst people holding signs, taking pictures, and updating their Facebook statuses while the Starbucks baristas called out orders for a "Skinny Chai Latte" and "Caramel Macchiato" to a crowd so high on adrenaline that these caffeinated beverages were merely ordered in an attempt to fill the empty minutes before we were reunited with the special people getting off the plane. Warmth, love, anticipation  radiated through all of us, and any hurt, anger, or stress that we might have been harboring was suspended in that shared moment. Amongst this family of strangers, I was reminded that this was what it's all about- this is the essence of our humanity. Our interaction was fleeting, and it was unlikely that I would ever see these people again, but in that moment our sole (soul!) focus was singular. Different though we were, for a time we were united in love. We all went our separate ways as the passengers arrived, but I'd like to think that we each carried a little bit of that shared energy with us... and will carry it for longer than we might know.

Ani sang it far more poetically than I could ever write it, so I leave you with a song.

Kind and Generous

 (Some background music as you're reading)

Donald has one of the most generous spirits I'll ever be blessed to know. He shares both laughter and tears openly. He's always right there in the moment with you- perceptive as all get out for a man that will, more often than not, forget your name. He shares his essence with you, and you feel it. You know that the energy he's giving you in each and every "life story" is a little bit of what has helped him overcome great personal and physical strife. Even in his progressively weakening health (he says it best, "Age is a bitch!"), I walk away from interactions with my dad feeling a little bit stronger. At an unhealthy 71-years-old, I have to appreciate that it must take a lot out of him to give this gift of positivity to the world. Lucky for me, I'm surrounded by generous people. I'll be the first to admit that these people make me a stronger and more complete person; without them my life would be less meaningful and a lot less colorful.

Donald's trips would not be possible without my mother's endless love and support. There's not a day that's gone by that I've ever doubted that my mom has our family's best interests at the forefront of all she does. Hell, she flies her ex-husband thousands of miles to spend precious, and fleeting, time with their daughters. She makes sure my life is richer intellectually, emotionally and (without forcing the church issue) spiritually. She feeds the desire in me to be the best person I can be.

This time around Donald is only in Rhode Island for two weeks. I recently moved into a second floor apartment and he's not in good enough shape to make the climb up that many stairs each day. When signing the lease I tried to reconcile the guilt I felt about essentially putting an end to dad's yearly visits. At Tracy and Steve's house one night (over too many glasses of wine) I got emotional about this very issue, and they kindly opened their home to Donald on his next visit. So, here I sit, typing away on Tracy's couch while listening to dad's rhythmic snoring coming from their dining room-- the makeshift, first floor, guestroom. Who would volunteer to turn their lives upside down without blinking an eye? Not many people, but Tracy and Steve did so without prompt. I'm not sure one can ever repay such a loving gesture. But we'll start by limiting dad's stay to a more manageable two weeks.

Do you remember the original Vineland inhabitants? Well, Tawn (yes the same woman that caught Donald in his undies on more than one occasion) was kind enough to lend us her guest bed for dad's stay. I spent last Sunday frantically shopping for an affordable mattress set before I remembered that I had a friend with the exact resource I needed. Not only did she say we could have the bed, but she strapped it to the roof of my car and followed me from her house to Tracy's earlier this week to make sure I was safe... after a day of roofing!

I don't drive on highways willingly, and the people closest to me know this. So, in talking about preparations for dad's visits, Luke offered to help with the airport pick up. This meant that not only did I get to relax about the trip to the airport, but I also got to indulge in a per-airport glass of wine- an amazing gift for the chronically anxious. Luke is probably one of Donald's favorite people- he makes my dad feel both loved and secure. I regret that they have not had more time to spend together the last few visits, but am eternally grateful for every moment that Luke is able to carve out for him.

Dad's visits make me a little antsy and on edge. You all know that I'm not great in an emergency, and this makes me... well, damned nervous! Kelley and Meg are always there to field my calls and calm my anxiety in the days leading up to a stay. They're among the first to volunteer to come have dinner and play dominoes any night, and I take comfort in knowing that they're happy to spend some time with us. Knowing that I don't have to be all alone should something go wrong is an amazing source of strength.

People love Donald. They're willing to do most anything for him because, at his very core, he is good. And moreover, at their core, the people I love most in this world are similarly shiny, generous souls. They have more to give than I could ever expect, and they share that with me. I am truly one of the lucky ones.