Made it

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Another beautiful, hot, sunny day in Virginia found us lounging poolside and soaking up every last minute of our visit. We spent the day basking in the sunshine and swimming in what has to be the biggest neighborhood pool I've ever seen. Seriously, my son's neighborhood pool is enormous. I couldn't stop marveling at it.

The air temperature was so hot that frequent dips in the water weren't just enjoyable, they were necessary. We'd cool off in the pool, climb out, and be completely dry again within minutes thanks to the blazing sunshine. We probably could have stayed there all day, but eventually common sense prevailed. We realized we were well on our way to becoming over cooked and retreated to the shade of the house before the sun could finish us off.

The afternoon was wonderfully relaxed as Tim and I packed for our trip home. Our flight wasn't until early evening, so there was no need to rush. We said our goodbyes, loaded up the car, and set out on what should have been a simple thirty-minute drive to the airport.

And that's when the adventure began.

Almost immediately, traffic came to a complete standstill on the two-lane highway. Cars stretched as far as we could see in both directions. It looked like a scene straight out of The Walking Dead as people got out of their vehicles to stretch, chat, and try to figure out what was happening up ahead.

Thankfully, there were no zombies.

Just waiting.

Thirty minutes turned into sixty. Sixty turned into ninety...ninety minutes into hours... With every passing minute, our chances of making our flight seemed to disappear. My son was convinced we had no chance and began discussing backup plans. Meanwhile, my younger son back in Rhode Island was on standby as our ride home, if we ever made it there. It felt like an entire chain of people and plans were hanging in the balance.

Oddly enough, I remained optimistic. Maybe foolishly optimistic. But the last time I flew home from Virginia on Breeze, the flight had been delayed multiple times, so I kept hoping lightning would strike twice.

Eventually, we learned there had been a serious accident that had completely shut down the roadway. Once traffic finally began moving again, it was hard not to realize that whoever had been involved in the crash was likely facing far more serious circumstances than our travel inconvenience. It was a sobering reminder that sometimes a little perspective is needed.

Then, as if the travel gods were listening, my wish came true.

Our flight had been delayed.

The new departure time was 9:35 PM, and our GPS confidently informed us we'd arrive at the airport at 9:25 PM.

No problem... right?

The moment we pulled up to the curb, Tim and I jumped out of the car and began what can only be described as an Olympic-level sprint through the airport. We rushed through security and then took off running for our gate, which, of course, was the very last gate in the terminal.

At this point, we figured our odds of success were about 2%.

My son remained in the airport parking lot, just in case we had to turn around and admit defeat.

Tim reached the gate first and was greeted with the most beautiful words imaginable:

"You're good. We only need one more passenger."

That passenger was me.

Somewhere down the concourse, I was running as fast as my weary legs could manage, gasping for air and questioning every life choice that had led me to this moment. Clearly I need to sprint more in my day to day life. Somehow, I made it. I scanned my boarding pass and stepped onto the plane.

Tim and I looked at each other in complete disbelief, a mixture of happiness, shock, relief, and pure amazement. It felt as though the universe had lined everything up perfectly at the last possible second.

The flight home took less than half the time we'd spent sitting in traffic. Before we knew it, we were back in Rhode Island, where my younger son was waiting to pick us up. We pulled into our driveway just before midnight.

After all the excitement, and adrenaline still rushing through our veins, it took a while to relax enough to sleep...but it felt great to be home just the same, and our sweet basement cat was happy to see us! 

Home sweet home.