Mark and I flew to his Mother's home in Suffern, New York. The Child had gone a week prior, on Mark's Birthday, and we had a week alone at home, doing what most parents do when their child goes away on a week-long vacation: we slept a lot. Okay, and other things.
Normally, we visit Mark's family about once a year. Frequently, there's a family gathering of some sort that involves the brother from Virginia, and the sister from Pennsylvania, and occasionally the other brother from Buffalo converging on Mark's Mother's House. Mark's Mother is a Great-Grandmother, and it is not uncommon for grand-children and their families to vist, too.
Covid put the kibosh on travel last year, and various health issues dictated a smaller gathering this time around.
The morning of our travels, Mark took Aoife to Doggy Daycare. She knew something was up -- probably from the suitcases -- because early that morning, she crawled into my lap and pressed herself against me. Mark reported that she uttered a Dolorous Cry when he drove away, leaving her in the care of the Doggy Daycare Ladies.
The cats were delighted that we were leaving.
When we got to the Portland Airport, it looked like everyone in Oregon had decided to get one last flight in, despite the Covid Delta Varient going around. The signs to the parking lot lied when they said there were spaces available, and it was only after a lengthy search and some creative decision-making processes on Mark's part that we were able to locate an empty spot the car would fit in.
Luckily, we'd left in plenty of time.
The terminal was packed. An ocean of travellers serpentined through the security check line. Social distancing was a joke. Mark had anticipated this situation, and we managed to expedite the TSA lines by going through pre-check. It was like a Disney Fastpass; we sailed through empty lanes up to the check point and were through it in about five minutes. Considering how much my cary-on baggage's strap was biting into my shoulder, I am very grateful Mark had the foresight and we had the means to arrange dodging the non-socially-distanced masses.
The flight was mostly uneventful.
I had a window seat -- it's always interesting to me to see the calligraphy of the canyons in the mid-west, the exclamation points of wind turbines, and the regular patchwork grid of roads once you are flying over Illinois.
Mark sat next to a woman who ordered two beers and a lot of snacks. The moment of irony was that the very nice flight attendants were forced into tech support and spent ten minutes handling her iPhone so she could connect to the plane's WiFi, activate her credit card on the airline's app, and participate in the contactless payment method for her food and beverages. Mark double-masked when her first beer spritzed out of the can and onto him.
Despite all this he managed to get far on his knitted socks.
The sun set while we were somewhere over Chicago, painting the trailing edges of the wings with red gold. Later, the full moon rose and turned everything silver. I was struck by how many times we've been travelling on a full moon; I can can think of three other instances. Our wedding ceremony seventeen years ago was on a full moon, so this was technically a lunar anniversary.
As we began our descent, we flew below the cloud deck.
Tropical Storm Henri threatened to give us a bumpy landing, but our pilot got through it smoothly. We must have been between storm bands when we landed.
A car rental, a trip through some really heavy rain, and about ninety minutes later, and we were at our hotel room. I'm pretty sure we fell asleep quickly.
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