Blog: Airport O’Phobia by Jessie Close

Last night as I lay in an Orlando hotel I kept thinking of things I wanted to write the next day.  I’ve forgotten them.  I even keep a small book next to my bed with a pen next to it but I couldn’t rouse myself to write my thoughts down.  I say to myself that the idea is so great that I certainly won’t forget it.  I was stuck in that terrible place where I can’t fall asleep but I’m too tired to get up and be productive.  And I missed Snitz.  She stayed home for this trip.  Two, two and a half hour flights seemed excessive to me so I made the executive decision to leave her at home.  My son Calen was with me on the way to Orlando but now he’s going home and I’m flying on to Tucson.  Since I had to leave the hotel by 1 at the latest I now have a 5 hour wait in the airport.  I don’t think Snitz would have liked that.  There are so many children running around in here that it looks almost like a day-care center.  Disney Land… Snitz would have hated all these kids.  But besides all that, I missed her so much last night.  I would have put my hand on her furry, warm self and fallen sleep.

I felt terribly alone last night knowing that Calen would be leaving early and I wouldn’t see him.  I’m not used to that feeling of being lonely.  I thought about it and tried to leave it behind me but it persisted and interfered with my falling asleep.  The only conclusion I can come to is that my dogs allow me to feel not lonely even more than I thought they did.  But again, I wonder if being out here in the other world, the world of concrete and thousands of people, that pushes me into loneliness.  Out here I re-enter my bubble, the bubble I used for years to keep me separate, keep me at arms length from all the people who swirl around us when we live in cities.

I washed my hair before leaving the hotel.  The cab driver had the windows open and my hair dried quickly as it blew around my head.  Perhaps the driver was saving gas by having the air conditioning off.  I didn’t ask as I didn’t care – the air was warm.

Right now I’m sitting under a huge dome in the Orlando Airport.  Soft light falls on groupings of chairs and benches.  If I close my eyes I can hear that peculiar sound that is the hum of human voices, pierced occasionally with a scream or yell from a human child.  Sometimes I can hear little feet run past me and the conversation and orders of parents trying to keep their little ones near them.  And I remember bringing Calen and Sander to Disney World when their dad, Tom, and I were together.  I have to stop myself from going down that road too far as an ache begins in my heart and I know it will only get worse if I dwell on those memories.  We had such a good time.  The boys were old enough to walk (run) on their own, young enough to be mesmerized by the Magic.  I feel for the parents of very young children who won’t remember this trip.  There’s screaming and yelling and wailing from those young ones.  Oh well…  I hope I get to come back with grandchildren one day but only if they’re at least five years old.   Then their little feet will run through this airport and we’ll go into the Disney store for last minute trinkets.  That will be fun.

But for now, alone without Snitz, alone without departed Calen, I’m sinking a bit into melancholy.  It’s time to get to the gate anyway.  I’ll check the board one more time then walk to the gate.  I’m sure my thoughts will pick up steam, leave the sad station as soon as I’m moving again.  We’ll see.