It’s been four years since we last did this. It’s actually been more like six — four years ago, we all went to Poland together. It was the 2015 trip that was split up. I wasn’t even planning on going that summer, in fact. This year, just K and E are going, and that long long journey began this morning with a departure from the house at 2:15 to arrive before 4:00 to make it for the 6:00 flight from Charlotte to JFK. We usually go Charlotte-Munich-Krakow, but with covid restrictions and such, K wanted to fly directly to Poland, which meant leaving from JFK. She reasoned she stood less of a chance of having problems getting into Poland with an American passport and an expired Polish passport than into an EU state. When we did all this planning, Americans were still not admitted into Europe, I think. So we left ridiculously early to arrive the requisite 2 hours before departure.
You can see in K’s expression just how excited she was. Even though the drive home would normally only be about an hour and twenty minutes, Google routed me a different way: 85 south was closed at some point for construction. We’d seen the backup forming (at 3:00 am), but I’d hoped it would have cleared up by the time I was heading back that way.
It was not, turning an hour-and-twenty-minute drive into a two-hour-twenty-minute drive. (I stopped just before getting on I77 to double-check, hence the two-hour-six-minute time.)
I got home to find Papa awake and needing assistance. By the time everything was squared away, it was 6:35. I set the alarm for 7:35 so I could get up to take L to volleyball conditioning, but of course I never really went to sleep. I was just dozing off as the alarm sounded. Back home at 8:00, I started Papa’s morning routine, then left the rest to our wonderful CNA and headed out to the store to buy a few things. No point in lying down for an hour again, I figured.
In the meantime, K and E were having their own adventure, collecting their bags (not checked all the way through because the original plan had been to drive to NYC), finding their way to the terminal from which LOT departs — all of which absolutely thrilled the Boy. In Munich the last time we were there, he was thrilled by all the moving walkways, all the planes visible from the terminal, and even the self-enclosed smoking pods. I’m sure it was just as thrilling in JFK.
“An airport is a paradise for a nine-year-old boy,” I texted K. I always loved going to the airport for Papa’s business trips: the hustle and bustle, the equipment, the planes.
But even then, a little one can get tired and frustrated when the layover is hours long. K had a secret weapon, though:
And of course, he knew what was waiting for him on the plane — he’d been talking about it for the last two weeks:
The final text from K: we’re on board but take-off is delayed thirty minutes. For once, that’s not a problem: there’s no connection to worry about. Waiting at the other end of the flight will be her brother, ready to bundle them off to Babcia’s place.
I can only imagine Babcia’s excitement after four years.
So happy for them! And selfishly, I can’t wait for K’s photos! It’s a good time to go to Poland. The infection rates there are low, the people are crawling out of hiding. I’m so excited for both E and K! You are, of course, heroic in your efforts to care for your dad.