For my birthday, LCP, my daughter, gave me a trip to Puerto Vallarta, using her mileage points. She flew from SJC to SNA, and I flew from PHX to SNA. Meeting in the middle, we then traveled together to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.
On the first leg, flying SWA, I had A37. I chose an aisle seat in a 3-seat row where a man was already sitting by the window, and as the plane began to fill, a flight attendant announced it was a full flight. Minutes before the plane’s doors were closed, a woman asked me if she could sit in the middle seat next to me. I stood up, allowing her to move past me into the seat. As she shoved her carry-on under the seat in front of her, I noticed she, too, carried a black pack. I commented, smiling, “nice backpack, that’s the only way to go.”
She responded, “yes, a purse doesn’t work for me.”
It doesn’t work for me either.
We began a conversation that lasted the duration of the 55-minute flight to SNA.
“I have my work and personal stuff plus my daughter – who I take everywhere with me when I can – so I need a bag to carry it all.”
She has a daughter, too.
I used to take my daughters to work when they were young. Instead of play dates, we had work dates. We needed our load to be light, too, and a purse was extra baggage.
I got an SWA drink coupon out of my backpack and offered one to her. She said, “no, thank you, I have one of my own, but I’d like to have a drink with you. Is it bad to drink this early in the morning?”
Don’t worry about what other’s think – if you want a drink, have a drink.
I felt like her mother.
She told me about her job – that she works for an organic food brokerage company. During her pregnancy with her daughter, she was exhausted, stocking shelves and doing manual labor at a local organic grocery store. She worked 14 hour days. Her body ached, and her legs swelled from her pregnancy. She was a mess, worrying about how she’d be able to sustain this pace after her child’s birth. One day, while stocking shelves, a man approached her, asking if she’d be interested in a sales position with his company. He said, “you have a twinkle in your eye, and I know you’d be great.”
She was dumbfounded – how could this happen? A stranger randomly hired her, and now she has this great job that allows her to travel, and often, when in-state, with her daughter – she says, it was God.
She told me about her travels all over southern Arizona, her work territory. Often she takes her daughter, who sits in her car seat in the backseat of her car. They talk about the beauty of the desert (she says, Patagonia is awesome right now!) and try local restaurants, together. She mentioned a great pizza place in Sierra Vista, and I mentioned I’d recently been to a great, pizza place in Florence. She related that she goes to Florence quite a bit. I told her the only thing I knew about Florence, before finding the pizza place via Yelp, was the prison that’s there. She said, “yes, I actually have a friend who’s in that prison who I try to visit pretty regularly.”
I asked what the charge is –
Armed robbery and car theft.
“He likes to fight, so he’s in trouble quite a bit. Lots of times I don’t get to see him during prison visitation because he’s being disciplined.”
I asked her how she knows him.
“We lived together throughout our childhoods – so he’s like a brother. Our parents were meth addicts – 3 couples and their children lived with my parents. When the parents would go on drug binges, we children would be handcuffed to a metal pole for hours. We were forced to do meth at around age 11, and there were times that we’d be up for 6 days straight, tweaking. It’s weird though when our parents would disappear, we’d sneak up to the top of this hill near our house and just hang out – we felt like we were good. It was in those moments that I’d talk to God, and know that everything would be OK, that He would take care of me.”
The children of meth-addicted parents craving love from mothers and fathers, only to be shackled to a metal post and abandoned for their parents’ highs.
“Just yesterday I had work that took me back home – I visited my mother, who’s still using. I had to tell her that she couldn’t take care of my daughter. She was outraged. I left with her being mad.”
You don’t have to feel guilty for leaving your mother yesterday. You can love her, but you can’t fix her. The drugs are her daughter, not you. She’s attentive to the meth, but you’ve been abused. You can’t return to your abuser and allow it to infect you. As you love your own child today, you’re clean and sharing the beauty of this world with her. Who knows – but I’d put money on it– your daughter will be taking you on a trip when she grows up and is out on her own. She’ll be meeting you half way and helping you carry the load because you’re deserving. You share hard work, respect, and love, and with that cocktail, healthy relationships are born and nourished.
We each have our own drink coupons and mileage points – our own culminations of life experiences and influences. Not all comes free – some of us have had to pay and to sacrifice enormously and to learn really hard lessons the hard way. However, finding happiness through goodness is free, as is trusting we’re never alone.
Don’t sweat the small stuff.
Be a good mother. Be a good daughter. Be a good father. Be a good son. Make a new friend or visit an old friend who needs reminding of the good in the world.
Change the world by changing the cycle. Rejoice when it’s awesome and believe
Good can come from the weirdest places, like sharing a drink on an airplane flight before 9 –
Life exists beyond the handcuffs –
Those cuffs make both prisoners and earth angels.
As children, we often have little choice,
but as adults, we choose.
Growing up and old has its perks –
Drink in these moments.