“I Can Handle This”

“I can handle this.”

As we prepare for our 18-yr-old daughter to go off to college in August, we often laugh and talk about those “what would you do?” situations. You know…what to do if your child calls you from the hospital. What to do if your child calls you with car trouble. And yesterday, even before she has left for college, I received one of those “what would you do?” phone calls from her.

Yesterday morning, my daughter was scheduled to fly back to Charlotte from Pensacola on a 9:30 flight. About 90 minutes before her scheduled flight time, our home phone rang. I’m going to be honest. Because I had gone to bed super late the night before, I was sleeping in, and the phone jarred me awake.

When I saw my daughter’s name and number on the caller ID, my blood pressure shot up and my pulse rate quickened immediately, knowing there had to be something wrong. I answered, and she said, “I don’t have my ID.” Like any mother would do, I asked, “What?!?! Why are you walking around without your ID?!? Are you at the airport?” My pulse rate and blood pressure were climbing as I went deeper into panic mode. She needed to get home for lacrosse practice. It was the whole reason we picked that flight for her return, so she would make it in plenty of time for the 4:00 practice. She said she was not at the airport and didn’t know what to do. I said, “Let me see if I can get through to American Airlines. Get to the airport.”

I called American and got the standard “we are experiencing high call volume” message, so I hung up and called my daughter back. I told her to get to the airport as quickly as she could and ask what to do there. I was in panic mode and followed up with, “If you miss your flight, you have to call your lacrosse coach and tell her why you won’t be at practice today.”

And that’s when she said, “It’s OK, Mom. Don’t panic. What’s the worst that could happen?” My mind started racing. The worst that could happen if she didn’t get on that flight? Well, she would miss lacrosse practice and possibly miss school the next day. Sure, we don’t want those things to happen, but in the overall scheme of things, it’s not a disaster. She then told me, “I Googled it, and I think TSA will work with me. I can handle this.” As soon as she said it, I Googled “TSA, lost ID.” She was right. Right there on my screen, it said TSA will “interview” the passenger in the event of a lost ID. But I was still in a panic. I said, “I’m going to text you a photo of your passport, just in case. Just get there and let me know if you make it through security. Make sure you don’t have any liquids in your bag to slow you down.” “OK, Mom. I can handle this.”

I was upset with her for being irresponsible with her ID. I was confused about what had happened to it. I was not happy about the situation, but I was glad she was facing it calmly. She texted me when she arrived at the airport, and eight minutes later…literally, eight minutes later…she texted, “I’m through security.” Yippee! I texted back, “Call me when you get to the gate area.”

A few minutes later, the phone rang, and I asked what had happened. She said there was no line at security when she got there, so she got in the PreCheck line and went straight up to the agent and explained she had lost her ID. He called his supervisor, who came over and asked if she had any form of ID. She showed her a credit card, a debit card, her insurance card, her vaccination card, and the photo of her passport on her phone. She has TSA PreCheck, but they made her go to the regular TSA line, where they swabbed each of her bags thoroughly and checked them thoroughly…and then, after clearing everything, she was on her way. I said, “I hope you thanked them.” She assured me she did. “It was no big deal, Mom.”

And you know what? She was right. It was no big deal. My dismay (and momentary panic) turned to relief and pride…I was proud of her for handling it without panic. I was proud of her for handling the situation like an adult. She, in fact, handled it way better than I did.

I think I was projecting my own experience on her. When I was a teenager and visited Mexico with some high school friends and our Spanish teacher, the wallet of one of my friends was stolen. On our way home, she was not able to return with the rest of us, because when we got to the Mexico City Airport to leave, the person who needed to sign off on her affidavit for departure was at lunch! I guess our own experiences shape us, but sometimes, we need to remember every case is unique…and what happened in 1982 might be different than what happens in 2022.

Our daughter handled the situation in a way that gave me faith that, despite the fact that she couldn’t find her ID, she used the resources at her fingertips (Google) and made things happen. She approached the TSA agent with confidence, like the adult she is, and she made it home safely. There was never panic in her voice. She has been traveling her whole life; she knows “how to do.” I guess she knew she would handle it.

And she handled it like a boss! And now I feel even more confident about sending her off to college in August. We have to let them handle these little “emergencies” so they will know how to handle them. She’s got this!

***The featured photo is from the Pensacola airport in January 2007, when our daughter was just three years old. We’ve come a long way!***

You’ll Catch More Flies With Honey…

“You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

I had to impart that bit of wisdom on my teenage daughter when we were on vacation recently. She has a tendency, like me, to get “hangry.” However, I see the “hangry” warning signs in myself much more quickly than she does, and when I feel myself moving in that direction, I grab a little snack to keep me going till I can get a meal. Somehow, no matter how many times I have tried to teach her, she doesn’t listen.

Last week, we were on vacation on an island in the Caribbean. I am very familiar with “island time,” and I thought I had made the concept clear to my daughter. Apparently, I failed. We went to dinner one night, and as soon as we were seated at the restaurant, I knew we had a wait ahead of us. It was crowded, and we were on an island…that equals a wait. And it was, indeed, a wait. I saw the anger building in my daughter’s eyes. I know that hangry look. Honestly, if we had been in the United States, I would have been angry too. The wait time was excessive by US standards, but not by island standards. At least we had a table, right? We had been sitting for a while and had not placed our dinner orders when a large group came in. I knew then that I had to take action, so I got up and walked over to the server station where a lovely, hardworking, young lady was entering orders in the computer. She was working hard, but there was no way I wanted our order to get to the kitchen after that large group. I very kindly approached her with a big smile and said, “Hey. I know it’s crazy here right now, and nobody here is working harder than you are. If a large group hadn’t just come in, I wouldn’t be worried, but I’m afraid their order is going to get to the kitchen before ours, and we will be waiting forever. We are ready to order whenever you can get to us.” I was sweet. I used my best southern charm, and she smiled and very kindly said, “I’m on my way to your table right now.” She came over and took our orders, and I thanked her profusely. When she walked away, my daughter, who was starting to look like Linda Blair in The Exorcist, said to me, “How can you be so nice to her right now?!?! We have been waiting forever!” She was right. We had been waiting a long time and didn’t even have drinks yet. And that’s when I replied, “You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” I explained to her that the servers in that restaurant were working extremely hard (waiting tables is hard work), and their culture doesn’t look at time the same way we do in the US. And I had to explain the meaning of “you’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

Is that a southern saying? My mother used it a lot when I was growing up. If you’ve never heard it and don’t understand the meaning, I will clarify: it means you will win people over more quickly/easily by being kind. Get it? Honey = sweet, and vinegar = bitter. Kindness goes a long way.

Clearly, in the case of our dinner wait on vacation, it worked. We told our hardworking server how grateful we were, and we tipped her well to show our gratitude. At first, when my daughter asked how much I tipped, she said, “What?!?! The service took forever!” And I reminded her about honey/flies/vinegar. I also told her that she could bet that, when we returned to the restaurant, the server would remember us…and I was correct. The next time, she came to our table immediately with a big smile. It was a good lesson for my daughter. And in the end, we all won. The server got some fat tips, and we got better, more timely service. And frankly, by the end of our ten-day vacation, we felt like we had become friends with the server.

Trust me when I say that my mother had to repeat the saying about flies/honey/vinegar lots of times to me over the years. I’m not always the most patient person, and I’m not always the most kind person. I try, but I don’t always succeed. I have a bit of temper that I often have to keep in check. But I was happy I could use the opportunity to prove a little something about kindness to my daughter. She was impressed, so hopefully, she learned a little something.

“You’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” I can still hear my mother saying it.

October 2 Has Meaning for Me

October 2 has meaning for me.

Different days have different meanings. To a lot of people, October 2 means nothing different than any other day. To me, it has meaning.

October 2 is the anniversary of a day my life changed forever…the day my Daddy died in 2006. Pancreatic cancer. I’ve written about it before. Today is the 14th anniversary of his passing. While it’s hard to believe it has been 14 years, it also feels like I haven’t seen his face or heard his laugh in forever.

For years, I could only remember him sick. Pancreatic cancer was a cruel disease for him. Frankly, it was cruel for me and the rest of the family too. I had never felt such emotional pain. I thought I would lose my mind with grief. Yes, the disease was terrible, but through those months from diagnosis to his passing, we managed to have some good times. We laughed…a lot. We cried a lot too. We spent a lot of time together. My husband and I moved our little family down to the Alabama Gulf Coast for months, to be closer to Mother and Daddy. We were lucky we had a condo on the bay near their house. Our daughter was about to turn three. It wasn’t easy to uproot the family. We had good support in Charlotte…great friends we had made over the course of our marriage. They called to check on us, and they mailed little treats to our daughter. I called them and cried regularly. We didn’t have a lot of support in Alabama, but I enrolled our daughter in a church preschool…they very graciously took her when they didn’t have to. And I did everything I could to keep my little family happy while trying to help my mother help my daddy. Daddy was so sweet throughout his illness. It was heartbreaking watching him get sicker and sicker…and that was all I could remember for a long time.

But now, I can remember him not sick. I can remember his laugh. I can remember his stories and his wordplay. I can remember watching Atlanta Braves baseball on WTBS with him. I can remember watching the Chicago Cubs on WGN and listening to Harry Caray with him. We loved the early days of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire…when Regis hosted. He was into all the same “useless knowledge” I’m into. I remember what a jokester he was. I remember how he carried me to the car when I had a stomach bug at 17…just picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me to the car to take me to the doctor. I can remember how big his hands looked when I was a little girl. When he was dying, I kept looking at his hands…trying to etch them in my memory. I don’t know why that was so important, but for some reason it was. I think his hands represented his strength to me…his physical strength, but also his emotional strength. He was rock solid to us. He carried the burden of supporting our family, and he didn’t have a financial safety net in the form of parents who could help him in a financial emergency. He gave us that safety net, though.

My brother and I laughed just recently talking about how Daddy always made sure we were taken care of. He provided for us…everything we needed and most of what we wanted…throughout life. And here’s the funny thing…he’s still providing for us, in a way. Just recently, almost three years after my mother died, we discovered they had a life insurance policy he had set up many years ago. Today, on the fourteenth anniversary of Daddy’s passing, I deposited the check from that policy into a bank account, and afterward, I sat in the car and thought, “Wow. Fourteen years to the day after he died, and he’s still giving to us.”

Don’t get me wrong. Mother provided lots for us too…in a different way, but today is about remembering Daddy. I used to dread October 2 every year, because it meant heartache to me, but now I smile. I’m certainly not happy he’s gone, but when October 2 rolls around, I spend the day thinking about Daddy. I’ll look at the moon tonight and remember how he used to call me in Charlotte from his home in Alabama and tell me to go outside and look at the moon when it was particularly spectacular.

Just this weekend, when I was in a store with a friend, someone heard me call her “Miss Merry Sunshine” and asked if that was her name. I explained that I just call my friend that because she’s perpetually happy. And even that made me think of Daddy. When he was sick, I would take our toddler daughter over to visit, and he would sing Good Morning, Merry Sunshine any time she walked into the room. She loved it…and frankly, I did too. In one of his final days, I walked into the room with her, and he had a lot of morphine in his system…his speech wasn’t clear. His smile was clear, but his speech was garbled. He was “singing” but it wasn’t clear. I took that almost-three-yr-old little girl outside, and said, “I wonder what Big Ken was trying to say to you?” She looked up at me with a big smile and said, “Good morning, Merry Sunshine!” So yes, I thought of him this past weekend when the woman in the store thought my friend’s name was Merry Sunshine.

Now that little toddler girl is almost 17. In memory of Daddy, before she goes out with her friends tonight, I’ll take her hand and press a crisp $20 bill into it. He used to do that…give me “walking around money,” or WAM, as we started calling it when I was in college.

His passing was difficult. That’s not even a good word for it. It hit me hard. But it also taught me some coping skills…his final lesson to me.

Lots of good memories of Daddy. Thanks, October 2, for making me sit back and think about him. I still miss him, but I have wonderful memories of him.

Karma Bit Me

Two weeks ago, my husband came down with a cold. There’s a reason we have the term “man cold,” and my husband’s behavior was a perfect example of it. As lots of men do, he acted like he was dying. It’s rare that I ever just “give in” to a cold, but my husband almost always does for a day or two, and I almost always make fun of him for it.

In this particular instance, I came home from volunteering at our daughter’s school, and he was in bed. I asked, “Are you OK?” He looked at me with pitiful, watery, red eyes, and said, “I’m sick. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning.” I stopped in my tracks on my way into the bathroom, looked directly at him, and said, “Really? You have a cold.” He sneezed before giving me the stink-eye look, and I walked on into the bathroom, secretly rolling my eyes while my back was to him. Later, I just couldn’t resist, and I reminded him that going to the doctor for a cold wouldn’t do him much good. They could tell him what to do to treat the symptoms, but then, so could I. “Drink lots of fluids. Take Motrin for any aches and pains. Take whichever meds work for you…Nyquil? DayQuil? Allegra? Mucinex?” He didn’t want to hear me.

The next day, he went to the doctor, where he was told he was suffering from allergies, and he was told to “drink plenty of fluids, take Motrin for aches and pains, and take Allegra.” OK. Whatever. Our daughter had just recovered from a cold, so I felt pretty sure what he had was a cold, but OK. I stopped harassing him. I let him “give in” to his “allergies.”

And then, a few days later,  I caught his “allergies.” I woke up one morning and knew I had caught his cold. That morning, I said to him, “Thanks for sharing your ‘allergies’ with me.” Of course, I did air quotes around “allergies” when I said it. By this point, he had his sense of humor back, and he laughed. He also said, “Well, that’s what you get for making fun of me.”

He was right. As badly as it pains me to say those three words, I told him, “You are right.” Karma had bitten me right on the…nose.

But it gets better. Not only did Karma bite me. Karma kept on biting me till I came down with a brutal sinus infection, something I’ve never experienced. It’s painful. The whole left side of my face was hurting. In fact, I went to the doctor and got a prescription for some antibiotics, and 24 hours later, my face is still hurting. Karma.

I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve written 500 times, “I will not make fun of my husband again.” I have apologized to my husband profusely. I’ve tried to atone for my transgression, but Karma doesn’t care. Karma just keeps on biting me, and I deserve it.

So next time your husband gets a “man cold,” do not make fun of him. Learn from my mistake. Just let it ride. Take care of him. Bring him chicken soup in bed. Ask him repeatedly if he needs anything. Tell him you’re sorry he doesn’t feel well. Don’t ask him to do his chores. Just let it ride. Seriously.

If you’ve ever wondered if Karma is real, this is a short-term example of how very real it is. Next time you feel wronged, if you start wondering if Karma will ever bite the other person, I’m going to tell you, without hesitation, you can bet your sweet bippy it will. You might not be there to see it, but Karma is real!