Homeward Bound

Tuesday morning we arrived in Amsterdam. Just about 12 hours sitting in an airplane seat without getting up even once! It’s raining in Amsterdam. We’re sitting in the departure lounge, waiting for our Delta flight to Minneapolis. We’ve spent our 10 Euro coupon on a muffin and coffee. Now we’ve logged onto the free airport wifi — and I check my email. DiedHere’s one from my mom to her children:
Subject: Died
What? Should I be alarmed? The internet is a bit slow here, but it doesn’t take me long to read the content: "I just read on Steinbach news. Vic Peters died yesterday 60 years old, the curler?" And then she adds, "Who will be the next . .? Mom . Have a good evening ."

Whew! That’s a relief! Had me a little “up-jeraicht” there for a minute!  And then I had to laugh. Sitting there in the airport, getting a bit of a shock from my mother. And SHE is the one who always taught us to “never cry wolf”! There’s probably little point in wagering WHO will be the next because, as my sister Linda said in her reply, probably someone already was, but we don’t know him or her!

And with that our plane is boarding. Another 9 and a half hours sitting in an airplane seat. Even a guy with a great attitude can only take so much. This is not very much fun. I’m tired of turning up the volume on my earphones so I can watch the free movies. I’m tired of choosing chicken or beef every couple of hours. I’m tired of listening to that crying baby behind us. And that ‘live map’ showing the plane’s progress is boring.

We arrive in Minneapolis 15 minutes early. I guess that’s a blessing. We have to clear through customs and pick up our luggage, which means I need to drag that big golf bag around again. But that turns out to be a good thing! We decide to check with ‘Special Services’ to see if they can move us to an earlier flight home, so that we’ll arrive in Winnipeg at 7pm instead of 11:30pm. And the nice lady at the desk changes our tickets for no charge. And I check-in our luggage so that (hopefully) it will be at the airport the same time we arrive.

And so, instead of sitting at this airport for 4 or 5 hours we barely have time to take a short walk to get our legs moving. We send Alex a text and get one right back — says Max is excited to see us at the airport, too. Bonus!

The last leg of this odyssey is only an hour. The flight is not full. I see the gray grid of farmland below as we descend into Winnipeg. There’s spots where the fields are flooded. But at least most of the snow is gone — for now.

We land, deplane, wait for our luggage. The clubs are the first thing to arrive. Then the rest. A text from Alex — they are just arriving at the airport. We roll our bags out the exit and there they are, parked out front. Little Max is peering through the car window at us — a big smile on his face. Big hugs. And we’re off.

Who knew that Elvis (or is that Lyle Lovett?) hangs out at McDonalds on Fermor?

Max suggests we stop for an ice cream on the way home. He keeps looking over at me sitting beside him, a big smile, and then he can’t help but kick his legs a bit — he’s so excited! Tim pulls in at the McDonalds on Fermor. We get our ice cream.

Then we head for Steinbach and home. It’s 8:30. Sue is too tired to unpack and by 9:30 she’s in bed. I’m there a few minutes later — can’t keep my eyes open long enough to finish writing my last journal entry.

So that’s it! Again. I’m off this thing at least until the next journey. If you want to know what I had for breakfast you’ll have to ask me. Or better yet, ask Sue. She’d love to hear from you.