Not My Best Moment

            It was not my best moment.  As I handed over the empty peanut bag to the airline attendant, a dry shower of powder fell onto my neighbor’s tray and into her glass of diet Coke.  The attendant scowled, the man in the aisle seat quickly wiped his girlfriend’s tray clean, and I sputtered an apology.  At least she received another Coke.

            It’s been a day like that, quiet and awkward.  I’ve traveled in silence today, the old shyness shutting me away from the rest of the world.  I’m very weary despite the lovely week I just had with daughter, son-in-law, and grandson.

            I was a window watcher today, rewarded with a glorious clear view of the Grand Canyon shortly before we landed in Las Vegas.  The other memorable view from this trip was the Great Salt Lake last Wednesday on the first leg of the journey.  I was fascinated by the large areas of distinct color:  pink, blue, green.

            I was a people watcher, too. On the trip in, I noticed the couple with two out-of-control children and lifted them to the Lord.  I prayed for the young woman who was silently shedding tears as she boarded the flight to Seattle this afternoon.  I marveled at all the diversity of people and thought about how God knows and loves each one. 

            And now I sit, waiting for the shuttle in a spot that has become very familiar to me:  the waiting area by door 00.  I purchased my end-of-trip treat: an  Odwalla Vanilla Al’Mondo Protein drink at the newsstand down in the baggage claim area.  I am ready to be home even though I already miss my sweet grandson.  He will get his own page.