Airporting

I’m writing to you from what I consider to be the bowels of the Atlanta airport (non-nursing friends: sorry for this reference).  I call it that because while I flew into a quite happening concourse of ATL, I now sit at gate A17 with only a few newsstands and a McDonalds in sight for my entertainment and culinary delight.  I also consider it such because you apparently have to pay $4.95 per day for internet here, which I refuse to do.  So I am stubbornly tapping out this post in a Word document that I will later copy and paste into the blog for your viewing pleasure. 

Spending Christmas Day in an airport has been interesting.  It hasn’t been bad, but I find myself looking around and wondering what everyone’s story is.  Is the mom with two small children coming back from a trip to visit her parents, or are they just setting out in hopes of making it to their destination for Christmas dinner?  Is the guy in a snazzy business suit actually on a business trip on Christmas Day, or is he dressed that way because he went to church this morning and now has to head off for a new adventure?  Is the couple with “Sandals” tags on their backpacks on their way back from a honeymoon on Christmas Day, or have they been married for years and just wanted a little vacation around Christmastime?  Or maybe none of the above? Could they be old tags from a trip years ago?  Is the little boy in a red jacket traveling alone because he comes from a divorced family and is trying to split the holidays between Mom and Dad?  These are the things I wonder.

The only reason that I find myself in the mix of individuals traveling on the holiday is because my job requires it.  I was lucky enough to have off for Christmas this year and was thus able to visit my grandparents in Florida for what may be my grandmother’s last Christmas.  But in turn, I have to report to work at 7 tomorrow morning, and so I find myself airport hopping this Christmas instead of eating ham in Florida with my family.  It makes me wonder who else is traveling for work purposes.

I was thankful to find that Starbucks was open in the Tampa airport this afternoon and allowed myself to indulge in a skinny peppermint mocha before setting out for my flight.  The Tampa airport was pretty empty, which was nice for reading (Cold Tangerines, by Shauna Niequist.  I’m obsessed.  I hope to finish it on my next flight).  Atlanta, however, is packed to the brim (even at gate A17). 

The handle of my bag is hanging on by a thread, causing me to have to awkwardly hold my bag from the bottom while trying to plane and de-plane.  I'm making a mental note to purchase new purse straps when I get home, since I borrowed this bag from my grandma anyways so that I'd have an appropriate bag to stuff under the seat in front of me for carry-on.  I know that these are things that you care immensely about and are dying to know on these Christmas night.

I had an epiphany on my last flight, regarding writing.  I used to think I wrote to share my life with other people.  Why I would think that is silly, actually.  There is nothing particularly extraordinary about my life that would make it worth your while to read about.  I’m just a girl with mousey brown hair, a big heart, even bigger dreams, and a love for the written word.  So I write for me, not for anyone else.  I allow others to see glimpses of myself through writing, but mostly, it’s for me.  And that may sound selfish, but it’s as honest as I can be, because I find that the truest version of myself is in my writing.  I don’t adequately express myself when I’m talking in real life with people, using the spoken word; yet, I say everything exactly as I desire to when I write.  I learn things about myself that I barely knew before sitting down to my computer or picking up my pen to journal. 

 I’m thankful for the time I was able to spend with family this year for Christmas and am hopeful that next year will allow for plenty of time at the holidays with my two families—Scott’s and mine.  I’d much rather be decorating Christmas cookies or listening to Christmas music by a fireplace, watching those I love open presents, but I’ll settle for people watching in airports and anxiously awaiting my arrival in Indy so I can sleep in my warm bed tonight, only to leave it early in the morning to take care of patients at the hospital down the street.  I wish you all the Merriest of Christmases and hope that you are cuddled up in new Christmas pajamas drinking hot cocoa, reflecting on the Savior’s birth and the joy that comes with that. 

Lots of love and enjoy what’s left of 2013.  I’m thankful for all of you and your support of my writing, adventures, and big dreams. 

Grace & peace

C