Our eighty-two day trip around the Pacific rim is ended. The most stressful part of the end is getting home.
The morning of our departure began with my bacon and eggs breakfast, followed by lots of sitting around waiting for our group to be called. Once our group was called it was a short walk to pick up our luggage and board the shuttle to LAX. They deposited us next to our airline curbside check-in, where they relieved us of our luggage.
For a person uncomfortable in crowds, flying the week of Christmas through LA and Houston is special. Sharing space with thousands of people all focused on their travel plans, followed by shuffling onto overbooked flights and sitting in cramped seats. My mind starts thinking about all the possible points of failure. It's not so much that I'm a worrier, but the bulk of the process I feel mostly powerless.
I pray when I fly. Since most flights, either end well or they don't, I consider it something of a high stakes venture (either you live or you die). So as I buckle my seatbelt, I remind God that my life is in his hands and how much I want things to go well. I pray for the training, proficiency, and sobriety of our flight crew. I also express my concerns about the health of the hundreds of people with whom I'll be sharing air for several hours. It comforts me to remember that God is in control. This probably sounds odd coming from a lover of flying.
So we arrived safely in Fort Myers around 2300 where Vergil is waiting to take us home. I marvel at the speed with which we get from LA to RSW in one day. I find about a metric ton of mail has been collected for me by my neighbor.
I think it's called "jet lag"; the disorientation to time. My body is confused about waking and sleeping. Sunday at church, as the Pastor led us in prayer, I found myself being shaken from my slumber to come and help in the nursery (how embarrassing)!
Afterthought: It occurs to me that my last post was from Pago Pago. Just to chronicle the last two weeks of the cruise, it was mostly spent at sea. The seas were rougher than any we had experienced earlier in the cruise. On our way to Hawaii, was the worst. Many stayed in their cabins and/or took the patch/pill for motion sickness.
We stopped in Honolulu first. As usual, it was mostly spent shopping. It was reported that Pearl Harbor was not doing tourism that day.
Anh and I had been there about twelve years ago for a family wedding, but nothing seemed familiar to me. We got around by purchasing a day pass for the bus system.
All that really mattered was that we found a place that served Vietnamese food.
Thu treated me to a local beer.
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Bone head left, Diamond head right
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