Possibilities

Being back in the United States is nice.  Being in Michigan is nice. It's June.  It's Warm. I'm with my brother Tim, and his family, Susan, Brendan and sweet Jenna in Troy.

 It took me 27 hours of travel including lay-overs. Finally when I arrived in Detroit about midnight, I had to spend an extra hour at baggage checkout to report luggage that didn't arrive with me in Detroit.  (and have my brother Tim wait around, too)  

I traveled "with assistance", as it's called.  I knew I couldn't haul my bags, put them above my seat on the airplane and rush from terminal to terminal to catch the connections.  My right arm was in a sling and in pain. So, I decided to allow myself to be moved around in a wheelchair in the airports-Istanbul/Ataturk, London/Heathrow, Chicago/O'Hara and Detroit/Metro.  It wasn't easy.  I didn't take into consideration I wouldn't be able to walk around freely during the layovers.  I was able to get out of the wheelchair, but only in the areas they set aside for people who require assistance. It was quite sad to see all the elderly people depending on help to travel. 

An older woman who only spoke Arabic was crying. The people working the area got a young woman to interpret so they could calm her down.  They found out she was terrified of being left in a room and no one would know she was there and she wouldn't be able to tell them what plane she was suppose to take and when.  It took the young woman quite awhile to convince her she could trust the people there.  I was about a yard from this little old woman wrapped in black scarves and dress in the wheelchair.  I felt for her.  I know how terrifying it feels to not speak the language and to be dependent on and trusting of others. 

An older gentleman waited patiently (how else do you wait when you're totally dependent on others to get around?) to get moved to the gate for his connection.  He had oxygen with him and had the look of being in pain.  A look I recognize all too well.  Not just personally, but from watching Harry Junior and Harry try to cover up the pain they were trying to tolerate.

When I boarded the plane in London, my seat was located between two other people.  I was told I would have an aisle seat so my right arm would be given the room to move when the spasms started hitting.  Being between two people with no elbow room was not going to work.  I told the stewardess I needed to get off the plane if they had no other arrangements for me to travel. She knew I wasn't kidding.  I was on my way to the door.  She got a nice young woman to switch places with me with the enticement of getting anything she wanted free during the trip. I was relieved.  I had no plan for what I'd do when I got off the plane in London and missed my other connection in Chicago to head for Detroit.  I just knew I couldn't handle the seating arrangement unless someone put me in a coma!

I got my suitcases 3 days later.  I was afraid my computer would be gone from my carry-on luggage.  I was told to check it on through with my other luggage, so no one had to push me and move the luggage at each airport.  I didn't give it a thought and checked it in.  I never thought I could say, "No, I don't think so."  Now, I know.  It was crazy to check it in.  My laptop, medicines, camera, i-pod, phone charger, and important medical documents were in my carry-on. Not to mention a change of clothes and shaving kit. (I hate calling it a cosmetic-bag.  It sounds like I carry a bunch of make-up, etc. that are too important to live without) 

I've been blaming my loss of short-term memory on jet-lag.  I've run out of days to use that for an excuse.  Now I've resorted to using the pain and lack of sleep as an excuse.  It's feasible, right?

My Shadow at Sunrise

 Catching fireflies, baseball, people working on their lawns, walks on sidewalks without cobblestones.  These are all comforts of being in America.  I'm missing Elizabeth and Istanbul, but for now I will stick with my physical therapy and take each day as a gift.  Being with family is part of each day's gift.  Jenna walks and plays with me. Brendan keeps me alert for the next verbal joke and makes me feel at home.  Susan keeps me humble.  She had shoulder surgery a few weeks ago and is also going through physical therapy.  She keeps positive and doesn't give up.  Watching Tim coaching on Jenna's baseball Team and making sure the coffee is ready for the morning is a delight.  Heidi is close by in Ann Arbor and I'm glad to be so near her.

Typing is a little easier.  I'll know I'm okay when I can pick up the guitar and play.  For now?  Quoting Rainer Maria Rilke, 'In one word: one ought to turn the most extreme possibility inside oneself into the measure for one's life, for our life is vast and can accommodate as much future as we are able to carry.'

Sunrise From My Window in Moda