Airplanes
>> Thursday, August 15, 2013
Lately, airplanes have been leaving a bittersweet taste in
my mouth. Typically, they signal adventure and travel, the prospect of getting
to experience a world not previously known. For this, I am grateful. In the
last two years airplanes have allowed me to venture with friends through the
tea plantations of Sri Lanka, the slums of Mumbai, the pristine beaches of
Sibu, the bustle of Manila. Experiencing languages and cultures that are not my
own is quite literally a taste of heaven on earth. An escape from the tiny
island to new sights and smells and sounds did the body good.
In the last two years among my almost 30 flights, planes
have also brought me to see people and parts of life that I cherish. Eating
breakfast with my family on Christmas morning. Seeing my brother get married
with the advent of fall. A surprise summer party from friends who know me well.
Hugging a best friend’s pregnant belly and gummy grins from that little bundle
a year later.
But then, there’s the other side of this traveling coin. In
order to go one place, you must leave another and planes inevitably carry
distance, separation. They have carried me tens of thousands of miles away from
family and friends and things I hold close. They have strained relationships, made
me miss weddings and births and babies’ first and second birthdays. An airplane
has carried me away from a 12-year-old girl who has my heart, a roomful of
rowdy boys aching for love, and time spent on a couch eating blueberries with
my nephew. No matter where I am, there is an underlying ache for people and
places that are no longer near.
The more airplanes I ride, the more I find myself daydreaming of a life where I have it all—all in one place. And sometimes, in my saddest moments, I think about what life is like for those who never stepped on an airplane, fourteen years young, and were never turned upside down on another tiny island filled with gap toothed kids and banana trees. But then I think about all the world and Jesus and myself I would have failed to see, embrace, and it’s almost like once you start boarding planes you can’t stop and I’m learning to make peace with the bitter as well as the sweet.
The more airplanes I ride, the more I find myself daydreaming of a life where I have it all—all in one place. And sometimes, in my saddest moments, I think about what life is like for those who never stepped on an airplane, fourteen years young, and were never turned upside down on another tiny island filled with gap toothed kids and banana trees. But then I think about all the world and Jesus and myself I would have failed to see, embrace, and it’s almost like once you start boarding planes you can’t stop and I’m learning to make peace with the bitter as well as the sweet.
