Au revoir mon fils
Preparations for departure
Friday was the most hectic day ever. I took the day off work to help YS pack for his trip. That entailed also running to the store to pick up all those last minute things he didn't have, such as new underwear, notebooks, colored pencils (for the art portion of the class), a gift for his host family.... you get the picture. Getting him to actually start packing was an ordeal. His trepidation about the trip was beginning to take its toll on him. As excited as he was, he was also very nervous. His newness to French, the realization that he would actually not be able to see us for 3 months, his concerns about living in a culture where something as simple as talking was going to require a great deal of effort, was beginning to wear on him. He just wanted to sleep. I had to light a fire under him. Additionally, The Spouse was having the day from hell at work (see previous post).
YS and I got his suitcase packed with room to spare. I decided we should weigh it, since the weight limit is 50 pounds, and this suitcase can easily hold more. We had packed several books in the suitcase, books he will need for his classes in France, and you all know how heavy books are. The suitcase weighed in at 68.5 pounds. Time to start paring things down. He decided he had more clothes than he needed. Isn't that usually the case - we all pack way more than we ever wear? We started taking clothes out. I had packed two bottles of body wash, so I took out one. At 1/2 a pound each, every little bit helped. We weighed it again. Still too heavy by about 8 pounds. YS realized he could check a second bag, though he had hoped to limit his luggage to just the one large (29") suitcase and his carry-on backpack. I dug out a Microsoft day pack that I have had for a few years. He put all the books into that bag, and that pretty much took care of the weight issue. We got the suitcase down to 49.5 pounds. His bedroom was a disaster with all the packing, unpacking, and repacking, but we were running really late and needed to go. The Spouse was frustrated with how late we were, wondering how packing a suitcase could take so long. If he only knew.
Saying goodbye
I had booked a hotel room in Spokane so that we could sleep a little longer. Sadly, The Spouse didn't get off work until 8:30 PM. It took us 30 minutes to get to the hotel, and we had yet to eat dinner. While we were having dinner, Oldest Son called. He and his wife had just finished dining with her parents in a belated birthday celebration (he turned 35 on the 19th) not far from where we were staying. They wanted to see YS before his departure, so they stopped at the restaurant while we were eating and visited with us for an hour or so. We finally hit the hay at 11 PM. Alarms were set for 3:30 AM.
We got up, showered, gathered up YS's luggage, and headed to the airport. We arrived at 5:15 AM. The other students were gathering, with their parents and friends, in front of the United ticket counter. The professor who was leading this part of the trip was there organizing everything and everyone. She handed YS the letter for his host family, and directed him to the ticket agent who was handling the students. The agent checked him in, checked his luggage in (and never weighed it at all!), and he was ready to go. We all stood around for about 15 or 20 minutes, awaiting the rest of the students. Then, before we knew it, the professor grabbed her carry-on and started walking to the security checkpoint. It was time to go.
All around, parents were hugging and kissing their kids. I had been doing pretty well keeping my emotions in check until we started driving to the airport. During that drive, I started to tear up, but managed to choke the tears back before anyone saw them. Now it was time to say goodbye, and I couldn't keep them in any longer. I hugged my son goodbye. He hugged me back hard, then his dad. He hugged me again and said "thank you for everything you guys have done to make this possible". That did it. The tears fell freely. The Spouse was teary-eyed too.
And this is where I have to say how much I hate the 9-11 terrorists. Naturally, I hate what they did on 9-11, but what I also hate is that, ever since that horrible day, you can no longer walk your loved one to the gate and wait with them until they board the plane. You can't stand and watch the plane fly off into the sky, which we did a dozen times when the older kids were growing up and had to fly off to visit The Spouse's ex-wife in the summer. You can't stand just outside the door to the jetway, awaiting your loved one's arrival when they return from a trip. You have to say goodbye at the security checkpoint, and watch them disappear behind a plexiglass (probably bulletproof) divider to wait for another hour or more to board their plane - time you could be spending together before their departure, if not for the 9-11 terrorists. I really hate them for that. Now, airports are no fun for those not traveling. It sucks.
Now what?
The Spouse and I drove back to the hotel, and slept. It was 6:15 AM. We got up at 9:30, went to eat breakfast, then went back and checked out. At about 10:30 AM, we got a call from YS. He was in Chicago, where he had a 6 hour layover. The students were free to roam about the airport, as long as they didn't go outside the secure area. He said everyone was pretty energetic, despite the fact that they had all gotten very little sleep the night before. A group of them were going to go eat. He would call later.
We were going to watch Granddaughter #1 play basketball. She plays on an AAU 7th grade team that is unbeaten. They usually beat their opponents by 30 or more points. There is a girl on their team that is 5'11" - at age 12 or 13! That is amazing to me. Granddaughter #1 is 5'2". If she makes 5'6" I'll be surprised. But the girl can play - and shoot. They won, but it was a really close game. Closer than it should have been, and the officiating left a lot to be desired. The number of missed traveling calls, fouls called jump balls, and flagrant fouls that were never called, was pathetic and had The Spouse in fits, but that's just how it goes. They won by 12 or 13 points, but easily should have won by twice that. Turns out, some people we know from town, whose youngest daughter graduated with our daughter, also have a granddaughter on Granddaughter's team, so they were there watching the game too. Such a small world.
A call from Chicago
By now, it was after 3 PM and time to head home. At about 3:30 YS called. They were getting ready to board the plane for France. They had eaten at Chili's, walked around some, then mostly played cards and some games on his video iPod. I cried again when I told him I loved him. This has been almost as hard as shipping him off to college his freshman year. At 5:49 PM, I got a text message from YS. "Just now leaving...plane delayed...love you guys." His plane had been scheduled to leave at 4:15 PM our time. It was now departing 90 minutes late. Later, I would learn that the extreme freezing temps in Chicago had caused the delay. The water on the plane was frozen, they were de-icing the plane, and a latch was broken. They had to sit on the tarmac for over an hour. Since the water was frozen, the bathrooms were unusable. Fun.
The rest of the day
The Spouse's new glasses were finally in (it only took a month to get them!), so we stopped at Eyemasters in Coeur d'Alene to pick them up. Daughter called. They were in CdA too, and were on their way to The Olive Garden for lunch. We decided to meet them there. We had a really nice visit with her and her husband, great food, and then we all headed home. Everyone - Oldest Son and his family, and Daughter and her family - was coming over to our house the next day to watch the Super Bowl. Oh, did I mention - the roof is leaking again? I don't know that it is a new leak so much as the wet insulation freezing in the cold, thawing when the day warms up, and then dripping down onto the ceiling, then freezing again at night, thawing during the day, etc. It is driving The Spouse crazy. We have raked the snow off the roof more times than I can count. I can't wait until it warms up enough for the roofer to get on the roof to determine the source of the leak. It's the worst in YS's bedroom. It is really frustrating.
At 3:15 AM Sunday morning, YS called from the global cell phone I got for him. He was in Paris, on a bus en route to the train that would take them to Saverne. He had all his luggage, was very tired (a 9 hour flight), but safe and sound. Yay! He would call later if he could. It was 12:15 in Paris. Bon voyage et au revoir mon fils. Nous vous aimons et nous vous manquons.
