The Mauritian Takes Flight
So the Mauritian braved a 36 hour flight back to South Africa to visit his ailing father who we believed would not be alive for much longer. It was a tough decision to make. Do we wait and see, drop everything and make plans, go as a family of does he go alone? We discussed, theorised and speculated for two days, speaking to this one, “Skyping” that one, phoned doctors and specialists. It was insane!
Eventually after a sobering discussion with my parents we agreed that he should go home and to keep the costs as low as we could the Mauritian would undertake this international trip alone. He was not thrilled with the idea at all. The Mauritian has flown internationally twice before, once at the age of eight the next when we moved to the end of the world. Both times he had simply followed instructions; the prospect of travelling so far on his own turned him into a bundle of nerves and his favourite sentence started with “What if...” The poor chap had managed to work himself up so much that he needed an interpreter at the travel agent. Mind you I’m not sure I fared much better because when we got home and really had a good look at the ticket we realised there were a few things that got lost in translation. They weren’t important really it just meant he had to change a few plans.
With the ticket sorted I set to work and had him packed and organised by Saturday night which left us Sunday to tie up any loose ends and go over and over what he had to do at each airport and how to make the trip easier. It didn’t matter how many times I told him to just follow the crowds or that there are signs everywhere as well as ground staff that will help, he was convinced he was going to get lost and miss his connection. Turns out all he had to do was get off one plane and walk to the boarding gate of the next and wait. The marvellous staff of Air New Zealand in New Plymouth booked his luggage from here through to Durban and his seats on every flight. That’s another gold star in my book.
So we said I goodbyes and off he went, the Butterfly waving enthusiastically and blowing kisses making everyone smile. I was relieved he was finally on his way and that the Butterfly and I could head home and settle into our time together without him. Easier said than done apparently, I paced the entire afternoon kept checking the time and guessing where he was and what he was doing. I found all sorts of things to do to pass the time and occupy my mind and the Butterfly’s. I didn’t sleep well at all those first two nights; in short I was a complete wreck! For the life of me I can’t figure out why I was feeling so lost, it wasn't like I was worried he would miss a connection or the plane would crash and it wasn't like he’d left for good even though this is one of the longest times we’ve been apart since we met. I spent two days telling myself to pull myself together and get a grip, I said it so much in fact that today when I reprimanded the Butterfly she turned on me and said “Get a grip will you!”
Wednesday morning the phone rings and the first words out of the Mauritian’s mouth were: “Polly, if one of us ever has to go anywhere again we go as a family, I’m not doing this again.”
My sentiments exactly!
Eventually after a sobering discussion with my parents we agreed that he should go home and to keep the costs as low as we could the Mauritian would undertake this international trip alone. He was not thrilled with the idea at all. The Mauritian has flown internationally twice before, once at the age of eight the next when we moved to the end of the world. Both times he had simply followed instructions; the prospect of travelling so far on his own turned him into a bundle of nerves and his favourite sentence started with “What if...” The poor chap had managed to work himself up so much that he needed an interpreter at the travel agent. Mind you I’m not sure I fared much better because when we got home and really had a good look at the ticket we realised there were a few things that got lost in translation. They weren’t important really it just meant he had to change a few plans.
With the ticket sorted I set to work and had him packed and organised by Saturday night which left us Sunday to tie up any loose ends and go over and over what he had to do at each airport and how to make the trip easier. It didn’t matter how many times I told him to just follow the crowds or that there are signs everywhere as well as ground staff that will help, he was convinced he was going to get lost and miss his connection. Turns out all he had to do was get off one plane and walk to the boarding gate of the next and wait. The marvellous staff of Air New Zealand in New Plymouth booked his luggage from here through to Durban and his seats on every flight. That’s another gold star in my book.
So we said I goodbyes and off he went, the Butterfly waving enthusiastically and blowing kisses making everyone smile. I was relieved he was finally on his way and that the Butterfly and I could head home and settle into our time together without him. Easier said than done apparently, I paced the entire afternoon kept checking the time and guessing where he was and what he was doing. I found all sorts of things to do to pass the time and occupy my mind and the Butterfly’s. I didn’t sleep well at all those first two nights; in short I was a complete wreck! For the life of me I can’t figure out why I was feeling so lost, it wasn't like I was worried he would miss a connection or the plane would crash and it wasn't like he’d left for good even though this is one of the longest times we’ve been apart since we met. I spent two days telling myself to pull myself together and get a grip, I said it so much in fact that today when I reprimanded the Butterfly she turned on me and said “Get a grip will you!”
Wednesday morning the phone rings and the first words out of the Mauritian’s mouth were: “Polly, if one of us ever has to go anywhere again we go as a family, I’m not doing this again.”
My sentiments exactly!
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