This morning was a little rough trying to get ready, get to breakfast, and then make it to the airport. The all too familiar mother-daughter tension was present in abundance. Surprise! I am now sitting in Las Vegas waiting for our plane to Fort Lauderdale. Don’t you love layovers? You gotta love that hopeful handful who park themselves at the airport slot machines hoping to add poundage to their luggage. And the airport is the best place to people watch. There are the little kids with Thomas the Train roller backpacks who don’t know what to do themselves and the adults who act the same way. The women who wear four inch heels and floor length dresses to get on an airplane. There are those who wear the more appropriate sweatpants, but go to the extreme of frumpiness. Men sit and ogle pretty women walking by. And couples cannot keep their hands off each other. It is interesting to think that all these people are traveling to different areas of the country and around the world. Everyone has a story to tell. Each one of these people, even if I criticize their attire or behavior, has a destination and (in most cases) someone waiting for them on the other end of their flight.
I am not nervous about going to Haiti. It may be partly that I have no idea what to expect. Reading about horrible disasters occurring far from home can make your stomach sink, but to witness the devastation will be something else entirely. What I expect is that I will come home with a different understanding of the world and a new appreciation for the life I lead.
Next time I write, I will (hopefully) have something interesting and meaningful to share. For now, I shall go get my tan on in the Florida sun.
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