“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view – until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” spoken by Atticus Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
Like most good sayings, they’re just words on a page till a personal experience brings them to life. Atticus’ above quote hit home for me when the Universe pulled a Freaky Friday this past Tuesday. Hasn’t the Universe got a calendar?
I’m not talking creep show or anything, but I did wear another man’s skin for a day or two. This was not anything like the dreaded elevator scene in Silence of the Lambs, so let’s not uncork the Chianti and cook the fava beans. But I did figuratively become someone else for a short time, and that someone happened to be my husband!
My handsome sea captain flies often to and from various ports around the country and has, over the years, been known to encounter many of life’s prickly moments along the way. A piece of lost luggage here, a canceled flight there, a belching, wheezing, passenger seated next to him… You get the general idea.
Though I attempt to be the sympathetic partner when his ranting dials up several angry notches, my attitude has always been, “What’s the big deal? If arriving home a day late is the biggest curve ball life’s throwing you, consider yourself a lucky man and perhaps learn to go with the flow a bit more, Grasshopper.” Sorry to those who find my Kung Fu philosophies a bit cookie cutter.
For years, I’ve adopted this sort of cavalier attitude that goes well with my Cavalier dog and for years, my handsome sea captain has been a bit stormy over my fortune cookie approach to life. He also becomes equally frustrated when he’s out to sea without contact for days or even a week at a time and when he does finally get a working signal going, I sometimes don’t have my phone turned on, I’m in the bathroom, or am in a noisy place and just don’t hear the ring. “What’s the big deal,” I say. “I always call back, don’t I?”
Once in a while, I’m a few minutes late in arriving at the airport to pick him up due to traffic, an accident or some other unforeseen circumstance, and my occasional tardiness upsets him. Why does he allow these things he can’t control to exert so much control over him? “Reign it in, suck it up, laugh it off,” I say, and when all else fails and he’s still ranting, I’ll conclude with an ever so kindly, “Shut up, already!”
And there you have it. Some page 6 personal details for the gossip column, only I’m afraid these marital items have already expired, thanks to this week’s Freaky Tuesday incident.
I was at the NIH (Nat’l Institute of Health) in DC for a semi-annual checkup and just received the awesome news from my doctors that all my scans remain beautifully clear (Since 2008). This was, as usual, a quick overnight trip from Asheville, NC, to Washington, DC.
“We’ll see you back in six months,” my doctor informed me with a smile. I high-fived her back, hopped on the first shuttle to the airport, seamlessly went through security at Dulles airport and was now sitting at the gate waiting for boarding, when I received word that my flight had been canceled due to bad weather. All other outbound flights were canceled too and I was forced to reschedule for the next morning!
Where was I going to sleep? The hotel I had stayed at the night before was already booked for that evening. Many phone calls later, I learned that every other hotel in the DC area was unavailable due to all the flight cancellations that day.
That evening, I found myself huddled with all the other disenfranchised passengers, with an overpriced Starbucks coffee in my hand to keep warm in the frigidly cold airport. After a while no one talked or moved much at all and I suspected they’d fallen into a state of suspended animation.
Sleep eluded me that night, so I finished a good book and received a message from a FB friend I’d never chatted with before who, as fate turns out, had a friend with melanoma who didn’t know anything about the wonderful research hospital I’d just come from. I gave her the number and some relevant info, and she wrote how fate must’ve brought her to my FB doorstep that night. Turns out she used to live in DC too. Go figure!
“I was beginning to feel rather like Homer’s Odysseus just trying to get home after the Peloponnesian War!”
At five a.m. I grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and walked to the gate, rolling my carryon behind me. When I arrived at the escalator, I paused before stepping on. Seemed to be moving a bit fast, I thought. So fast, in fact, it could’ve been a ride at Six Flags. I boarded it without a seatbelt, and immediately lost control of myself and my suitcase.
My bag unfortunately never made it on, but I did, and my piping hot coffee spilled all over the sleeve of my white jacket. Luckily, I wasn’t burned–just wet–and the more pressing problem was, how to retrieve my carryon?
I made several attempts to run up the bullet escalator but didn’t quite make it and found myself yelling, “Get me off this crazy ride, Jane!” Not even George Jetson had it this difficult. Every time I ran up the demon escalator, I could not reach the top of it!
Finally, just as a couple of frozen zombies had awakened, I was able to reach the top and retrieve my luggage, but not before they had witnessed much of my embarrassing episode. They had themselves a nice little chuckle–as did I–and I shot off for the gate.
My plane left on time and I arrived in Charlotte without incident. Now on to my connecting flight from Charlotte to Asheville and I’d soon be home!
…Or not.
I was waiting at the gate for my second plane to board when a flashing light caught my eye that read “canceled.” I soon learned there were mechanical difficulties with the plane and there were no others to take me home that day. I was beginning to feel rather like Homer’s Odysseus just trying to get home after the Peloponnesian War!
A bus was chartered for the stranded passengers, and when I phoned my husband to update him on the situation, there was no answer. That was the third time I couldn’t reach him! After I finally managed to get through he said, “How weird. Each time I had stepped away for a brief moment without my cell phone, that was the precise moment you’d call!”
My instructions were to contact him when the bus was within a half hour of the Asheville airport so I wouldn’t have to wait. Unintentionally, I fell asleep, and when I awoke, I found that we had arrived at the airport and now I’d have to wait an additional thirty minutes for hubby to arrive!”
Forty-five minutes later he did. Turns out, the cable went out and the cable guy had shown up to fix the line therefore slightly delaying his departure to pick me up by a few minutes.
When Daniel arrived at the airport, he wore a happy grin. On the way home, we happily discussed the positive news I’d received at the NIH, and then he made a startling observation. “You just found out what it’s like to be me!” he said.
“Oh my God, I now have soooo much sympathy for you,” I replied genuinely and confessed that this was surely a lesson for me.
“But it wasn’t only a lesson for you,” he said. “You took every annoying experience so well, I think it was also a lesson for me not to sweat the little things so much.”
And now it was I who was grinning.
Once home, I can tell you it never looked so good, my bed was never so inviting and when I awoke this morning, I was happy to find myself back in my rightful body, a little more tired than usual, but definitely a bit wiser from my Freaky Friday on Tuesday.