Today is National Siblings Day in the United States. This unofficial holiday is also celebrated in other parts of the world. I am thankful for my two older brothers, Cory and Shannon.
Over the years they have put up with a lot having me as their brother. For instance, there were many times they were sent to stay with relatives as my parents and I made our way to yet another hospital visit.
I am not really sure they minded this all that much. They were certainly spoiled by my grandparents, or my aunts and uncles whenever they were exiled to stay with family.
However, I really wonder how it was for them when they were younger. I would assume it was difficult having to be uprooted from their normal routine. I know that it would have been for me.
Growing up I was always closest to my oldest brother Shannon. My other brother Cory used to pick on me quite a bit, which, as I look back on things, was quite normal.
Now that we are all grown and have our own families, I respect the men my brothers have become. They both have married great women and have fathered some very good kids.
I wish I could see my brother Shannon and his family more often, but they live in New Jersey. It would be fun to spend more time with his family. He does still watch out for me, even though we are hundreds of miles apart.
My brother Cory still looks out for me as well, helping my wife Amanda and I do things around the house. He is always willing to lend a helping hand.
I love both of my brothers very much. I even forgive them for all of those times we were in the car and they’d pick on me. I would then get in trouble for being a whiner. I should have learned that sitting in the middle of the backseat made me a good target. I maybe could have asked to ride in the trunk instead! Anyway, if you haven’t done so already, reach out to your siblings and tell them how much you appreciate them.
Have you ever just had one of those days where nothing seems to go as it should? What do you do when faced with a day like this? Do you cry? Well, don’t despair because we have all faced times like this in our lives. One thing I have learned is that in order to get through life’s dreadful days one must have the ability to laugh at themselves and the situation. This is something I learned in a rather unique way.
The day was May 24, 2000. I had graduated from college just four days before and I was getting ready to embark on an adventure that would take my friends and me a few thousand miles from home. We arrived at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport at around noon to board a flight that was to take us to the “Land of the Midnight Sun.” After making it through the check-in process at the airport we set off to our gate, where we discovered that our departure was to be delayed. This, I thought, would not unfold into much of an ordeal. However, as I was to learn later it is never wise to assume anything, especially when it comes to air travel, for as the hours passed and my anticipation of touching down in Alaska grew more intense, a horrific hand of cards was slowly being dealt in our direction.
After nearly a three-hour wait in a crowded airport café we were ready to board a flight that would take us on our first leg of the trip to Alaska. The first part of our trip got underway and we were off to Seattle, where we would catch a connecting flight to take us to Anchorage. However, due to our delayed departure out of Chicago we knew that catching this plane was going to be nothing short of a miracle, and this is where things began to get horrendously surreal.
Arriving in Seattle, we all ran to see if our flight to Anchorage had departed yet, and sure enough it had. Consequently, the airline we had flown into Seattle on, offered to put us all up in a hotel for the night. However, we were determined to get to our final destination. To that end, we sprinted to catch another flight out of Seattle.
Watching me “sprint” is not a pretty sight. It is like watching a whale that has beached itself on the sands of some tropical island. There is a whole lot of grunting and heavy breathing, but not much movement. Fortunately, a man with a motorized cart came to my rescue. However, as I was soon to discover, this gentleman did not speak English very well. Add to this the fact that I did not have the proper gate number for our next flight and you have the ingredients for a potential disaster. If it was not for the observant eyes of my fellow travelers I may still be cruising the corridors of Sea-Tac Airport with my affable, but very confused chauffeur. Once we got to the proper point, my companions, who had run on ahead to the gate, flagged us down.
Boarding the flight, my mind began to think ahead to what would take place once we arrived in Alaska. Would our luggage be waiting for us once we arrived there, or had it gotten lost in the shuffle? As it turns out, this was to be the least of my worries. Upon finding my seat, I realized that I was going to be stuck sitting between two very large people, something that may not have been a problem if it were not for my own size. I placed my crutches in the overhead compartment, and then proceeded to squeeze in between my seat-mates. Three hours of the most uncomfortable trip I have ever taken was just beginning.
Once I began to settle in things began to heat up, which is not surprising seeing as how I was sitting next to two people who were giving off enough heat to warm the entire plane. This, added to the heat my own body was giving off, was just too much. Just as I was about to scream in agony I remembered that I had an air vent above my head that would provide me with at least a small dose of relief. Reaching up to turn the vent on I realized that it was broken. If ever there was a time that I felt like screaming this was it. I felt helpless. Here I am about ready to melt and I cannot get any relief. I had to think of something to keep my mind occupied or I was going to asphyxiate myself with a barf bag.
Being a geography buff I began to recite all of the state capitols in my mind, an activity that really did begin to take my mind off the fact that I was about a five-cent cab ride from taking my own life. It was about this time that I began to faintly hear the call of “Mother Nature.” How could this be? I thought I had sweated every drop of liquid waste from my body, and here I felt the urge to visit the lavatory. After working up enough courage to ask the rather large, and surly looking woman sitting next to me to get up so that I could get out, I proceeded to the bathroom.
By this time my bladder was quite full, so I decided instead of taking the time to reach up in the overhead compartment to retrieve my crutches I would just grab a hold of the seats as I went along to the back of the plane. This I can tell you now was not too bright of an idea, for as I made the mile- long trek to the restroom I fell down in the aisle a few times. Thank goodness the aisle was dark or I’m sure I would have had the other passengers questioning my sobriety.
At last I finally made it to the restroom. This, I soon found is kind of a misnomer, for an airplane’s bathroom is neither restful, nor is it very roomy, especially for someone that is carrying a few extra pounds. I think a better name for these places would be “torture closets.” If you need a visual aid to help you understand what I mean by all of this just watch the hilarious comedy “Tommy Boy.” This movie does a very good job illustrating the horror that large people go through while trying to use the bathroom on an airplane. This closely mirrors my own experience.
Once inside the bathroom, my bladder let go a little prematurely and my underwear ended up a casualty of this struggle. Therefore, not wanting to go back to my seat with soiled underwear, I began to take my shoes and pants off so that I could discard my underwear. This is where the real fun began!
Having a limited range of mobility made the process of disrobing very cumbersome and awkward, however, with all that was in me I finally got the job done. By this time, though, my shirt had somehow gotten soiled as well so I ripped it off and tossed it in the trash. I was very fortunate to have worn my jacket back to the bathroom, for this was now going to have to act as an impromptu shirt. After what seemed like an hour I was once again dressed and ready to exit this chamber of horrors.
Going back up the aisle, I gave a repeat performance of pratfalls and grunts, until I finally arrived back at my seat. To my relief the flight lasted only about another forty-five minutes before we touched down in Alaska. However, the nightmare was not over.
Once we got inside the airport we discovered our luggage had indeed not made the trip with us. So, there I was in a strange city, thousands of miles from home, with no underwear, wearing a jacket as a makeshift shirt. After reporting our lost luggage to the proper personnel, we left the airport in a rental car and headed for our hotel. We could finally get some sleep. Luckily, the next morning our luggage arrived at the hotel, bringing an end to one of the most overwhelming ordeals of my life.
Next time you are having one of those days where nothing seems to be going your way just imagine that your are trapped inside the restroom on an airplane and compare that to your present circumstances, and I’m sure you will see most things will pale in comparison. Oh, and one last thing, always make sure you have a clean pair of underwear with you at all times. You never know when you are going to need them.
“Life is a long lesson in humility.” – J. M. Barrie
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