The past 2 weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. From picking the husband up from the airport and all of the ensuing merriment, to holiday travel and boisterous visiting, combined with illness and a mile long to do list January 4th was both fast approaching and a long time coming. I spent the week prior fretting about bags and what I forgot, how much they weighed (should have taken more out for the record) and just general nervousness. So, when two days before we left we received a notice from Lufthansa that our second leg of the journey to Saudi had been cancelled and we had been rebooked on an earlier flight, thus shortening our layover in Germany by two hours, I tried to roll with it. We finished my random to do lists and settled in for a good night’s sleep Friday night. All was well.
Saturday morning we all awoke excited, nervous and stressed. The kids were bouncing off of the walls in anticipation of finally moving. I was stressed and nervous because that is what I do and the husband was relatively calm and collected because, let’s face it, someone has to be. And then, I got an email…from United…saying our flight was delayed by two hours…
Which had us arriving and departing at the same time in Germany. We are good but we are not that good. Commence panic mode. I took over breakfast and kids. Husband got on the phone and stayed there for 5 hours trying to find a way to make the trip still happen that day. We got as far as loading the cars and getting the kids strapped in. And, as we were getting ready to head to the airport he got a call. We would not be leaving that day, or the next, or the next. I cried. There was nothing that could be done. Just shitty timing of a northeastern storm and limited flights to saudi on our carriers.
Everyone gave hugs and left. We retreated into the house to put the kids down for quiet time and lick our wounds. The act of packing and saying goodbye left us both emotionally and physically raw. I finally understood what Paul Simon meant when he said weary to the bone.