I walked rapidly to my connecting plane since the first one was running a bit late. I was invited to photograph a wedding in our old home city of San Antonio. I'm excited to see my friends and be included in wedding preparations.
The bride had originally thought about an early June wedding. I said yes thinking Penelope would be born around May 20th and she would be at least two weeks old. I had asked Stephen if I was crazy. He is normally the better judge of crazy. He thought it would be tight but doable.
Penelope wasn't born on May 20th but instead on the 31st. I'm super glad the bride had already chosen to move the date from June 10th to July 13. Really, what was I thinking?
After getting comfy in my chair on my connecting flight, the pilot announces that there is a crack in a tube for the crew's emergency oxygen. It is required that they fix it before they fly and the part is in Atlanta. So we deplane and I'm annoyed by those rule keeping, meticulous people. Surely we can bend the rules just this once? Maybe we can pretend we didn't see it. I do this regularly when it comes to my van's maintenance, and it's worked well enough for me.
I want to complain, but I realize that I'm in the same boat as everyone else around me. Their time is just as important as mine. There is no use in throwing a fit. Nothing will change by us all jumping over the counter to strangle the gate attendant and demand a free voucher.
So I'm here in Memphis sitting in a sparkly booth at the Rock'n'Roll airplane cafe eating a sandwich and waiting for people to post on Facebook. I remember that D'arcy wrote me a note last night that she asked me not to open until I was on the plane. Well, I broke the rules a bit and opened it at my sparkly booth. D'arcy didn't disappoint, and a sweet note and original poem awaited me inside the Hello Kitty stationary.
"Together"
No matter how far away
our hearts will always stay
Together we are a pair
We'll see each other once again
With nowhere to go far away
I love you and you love me
Together we are a team.
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