Land of the Rising Sun

Well, the teen flew away today, looking a little wide-eyed but keeping his cool on. He did hug his sister, and willingly pose for photographs. After two years of preparation, which I'm sure will prove to have been woefully inadequate, the departure was frankly anticlimactic.

We had to leave the house at 5:30, and none of us slept well (Andy claims he did not sleep AT ALL). We anticipated a struggle getting the kids out of bed, but they both SPRANG with alacrity into their clothes and then we had extra time to loiter around, fret, check for his passport 9 times, ask him if he packed underwear, and get on each other's nerves.

As soon as we saw her this morning, Jo Anne was in serious business mode. She rode to the airport with us, and spent the ride in casual chat, while she was ALMOST CONSTANTLY checking things in her carry-on bag. After everyone checked in and got their seat assignments, the head-counting began. I got a picture of her hands, holding 13 passports and 13 tickets. She distributes them to the kids right before customs, and collects them again immediately after customs. Andy turned in all of his money to her as well, except $20 for incidentals in the San Francisco airport. I assume that means the others handed in their spending money as well, meaning that she took in somewhere around $6000 to keep safe. Lord.

I get pretty worked up just taking a group of 5th graders to the museum for the afternoon- imagine a MONTH in a foreign county!!! We also had to give her notarized powers of attorney letters. It's pretty sobering, but all part of the thrill and opportunity.

As you probably know, there are no longer protracted farewells at airport departure gates. Jo Anne gathered the kids for a group picture under the U.S. flag, which naturally required about 10 minutes of parents needing "just one more, from another angle," and then she whisked them out of there. (Oh, there was a "Thank you, parents," tossed out, and then she channeled a mother-duck/drill sergeant without a backward glance.) Those of us left behind glanced at each other awkwardly and agreed there was no reason to stay.

We left the airport by 7:30, Rose having sustained an injury from falling while running laps around the fountain. I had a headache the size of Rhode Island, and Rose was so fragile from her 10 square inches of rug burn. Peter spent the ride home calming himself, which consisted of saying things like: Just think, he's going 6,000 miles away! and, Now, we need to get our own tickets and hotel rooms for a trip in July. Will we go to Grand Junction this weekend? If we do, we need to get someone to watch the dog. Remember, Andy gets back on the 3rd, so we could wait until then. We need to open a bank account for Rose- can you counter sign? Andy will be flying over us soon, in a big plane! WHEN does Rose start camp? Oh, and let's think about how much money we'll have available to spend- we need to save some so Andy and I can make a pilgrimage to Yankee Stadium... I know the kids have a couple of medical appointments in July; we need to sit down with the calendar when we get home...

Can I tell you that it took EVERYTHING I HAD to accept that this was how he was holding it together? I just wanted to SCREAM at him to ZIP IT. Everything he said escalated me more- and remember I had a headache the size of Rhode Island.

Please understand- I didn't shed any tears at watching the big boy stride away, and I don't have any serious concerns for his safety. I've just had so much intensity about the details, plus a few professional commitments that have been new for me- and I am a little disoriented. Now, I wait for the phone call, and then send out the first message to the e-mail tree, announcing their arrival.