LUGGAGE Lady

Contemplations about Life, Love, & the Pursuit of Meaningful Existence…

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Gratitude and Sincere Apologies from Luggage Lady

The-Gift-Awaits3

Dearest Treasured Readers and Inspirational Fellow Artists,

I sincerely apologize for my lack of participation here without explanation. Please know, first and foremost, that I value your support and generous feedback tremendously. As for my fellow writers/photographers, I greatly miss savoring your beautiful work.

The reason for my lengthy absence is that, after an absurd amount of procrastination, I’ve finally found the much required fire beneath my tail to finish my long overdue novel: My impending 50th birthday…

February 29 (Yay, it’s Leap Year — I get an extra day!) is the deadline for turning my (100-plus times revised 😜) manuscript over to my new editor. He’s an accomplished author/former journalist from London, who I met during my travels. We’ve become dear friends, and he promises a tough critique!

I look forward to returning to my cherished blogging world soon. In the meantime, I dedicate the above poem to you ALL and thank you for being such gifts to me.

Much 💗 Love,

LL

When Parents Opt Out

Precious times two

“They say that abandonment is a wound that never heals. I say only that an abandoned child never forgets.” ~ Mario Balotelli

💔

Working the last few flights of a three-day trip, I’m organizing the back galley when two little girls, I’m guessing to be around seven and four, come back to say hello.

“Are you our flight attendant?” the older one asks.

“I am.” I smile, a stack of napkins slipping from my fingers.

They rush over. “It’s okay, sweethearts. Don’t touch the dirty floor.”

Too late. They’ve already scooped them up, proudly dropping them in the trash.

“You look really pretty,” the younger girl says.

“So do you,” I say. “I love your shirt. Pink is my favorite color.”

She giggles. “Mine too, but this is actually my pajama top.”

“Well, it’s perfect — and it matches your shoes.”

She beams.

“Where are you going?” (I’m thinking Disneyland based upon our destination.)

“California,” the older girl says.

“Southern?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you getting off at the first or second stop?”

“The next one.”

“Then you’re going to southern.”

“Okay. ” She shrugs. “That’s beautiful.” She gently taps my bracelet.

“Just like both of you.”

They blush in unison, and I follow them to their seats, eager to compliment the folks responsible for raising such charming children.

“Are these your daughters?” I ask the woman they quietly slide past.

She purses her lips. “Oh, no.  I’m just escorting them to a new home. They’re foster kids, and I’m their case worker.”

My lungs lock. “Well, they’re adorable,” I choke out the words.

Her eyes dart in their direction. “Yes, I suppose so.”

I flee to my galley, tears of disbelief pooling. They should be going to Disneyland — NOT a “new” home!!!! What happened to their parents? Why are these precious dolls floating around the system? And what if things don’t work out this time? Should I call my husband and tell him I’m bringing home two angels to shower with love — and anything else they’ve spent their tender years going without?? I write down my name and number to give the social worker.

But my head interjects, giving my heart a run for its money: This is none of my concern. Who am I to interfere? I probably wouldn’t even qualify as a legal guardian — I’ve never parented anybody!

And so…

I do nothing but serve them drinks and peanuts, all the while marveling at their sweet demeanor and impeccable manners.

An hour later they wave goodbye, sparkly-eyed and grinning. They seem so happy so — well-adjusted.

They’ll be fine.

I tell myself

over and over

just fine…

gulp

blink

blink

💔

🌺For many, Mother’s and Father’s Days trigger more feelings of loss than joy. I dedicate this to ALL those who’ve had to grovel (like my husband) for the parental love I’ve taken for granted.🌺

***Luggage Lady is off to the Balkans. I’ll return with more stories soon…😘

(Photo: From our 40-mile hike to Machu Picchu, Peru 2013 💕 Incidentally, this darling boy had two doting parents hovering nearby…I just loved the picture.)

To My Cherished Airline Passengers,

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First of all, I want to thank you for making my job so rewarding. Many of you have visited my galley to share tales of love, loss, hope, heroism, military sacrifice, business innovations, health hurdles, medical miracles, travel recommendations, and lifelong dreams. I treasure every inspiring conversation, laugh, and occasional tear we’ve shared. I strive to ensure your journey is enjoyable and stress-free. So, when you leave my airplane smiling, it warms the cockles of my heart.

Aviators tend to be perfectionists, and my husband is no exception. He prides himself on thorough communication, comfortable cabin conditions, and flying finesse. If he can grease his landing for you, it makes his day. He wants you to walk off his aircraft relaxed, knowing your safety and well-being will always be paramount.

We’re a seamless team, looking out for you and each other on every single flight. When emergencies arise, we have each other’s backs more than ever. I may work with different crewmates each week — but the paradigm never changes.

Add to this synergy, the way you selflessly volunteer when we need medical assistance or respond in some other gallant manner — like the time two of you saved me from hitting the ceiling during clear air turbulence — and you can understand why it’s devastating to have the trust between us compromised.

I don’t wish to marginalize disturbing incidents that capture the headlines. I just want to assure you that, as perplexing as these stories are, it only reinforces our bond. We’re truly in this together. Which is why every time my colleagues and I welcome you aboard, we seek to honor your loyalty by providing the same caliber of service we’d hope to receive when sitting in your seat.

Love,

Luggage Lady

* * *

Dedicated to the beautiful souls of Germanwings flight #9525 — we carry 💗you💗 in our hearts, always…

Timeless Souls Plucked from the Spring of Our Days

Classof1984

💞 💞 💞

A high school friend recently asked me to write something for our upcoming reunion. I struggled for weeks. Then, I thought about the plans being made to honor those classmates who’d left our world far too soon. Several of these losses occurred while we were still teenagers. The impact on our young minds was profound.

As I began writing, however, I realized this wasn’t just for the Class of ’84. This was for every courageous spirit who has endured unimaginable tragedy and found the strength to move forward, anchoring families, friendships, and communities with awe-inspiring perseverance.

I dedicate this to you with Love and Admiration.

♥, LL

(Photo from our journey to De Hoop Nature Reserve in the Western Cape Province of South Africa, 2009)

I’ll Be Happy Then…

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What?! I can be happy — right now? There are at least fifteen more dramatic adjectives I can insert here — but happy?? Life isn’t supposed to be easy. One must work hard, suffer, fail, work even harder. But happy — right now?  I mean, I’m a work in progress.

For example, this sudden jiggle in my thighs. I intend to commence a diligent lunge program first thing tomorrow. Then there’s the crow’s feet forging a crinkly frame around what was once my best feature. And what’s up with this blooming nodule on my jawline; will I be senile and still breaking out?

Of course I have less superficial goals. I want to take voice lessons, learn the Tango, perfect my Spanish, perhaps study French. What I really need to do is focus on being less preoccupied. And I definitely need to establish a “girl’s group” in my neighborhood. We could go to a comedy club, a play, a concert, or just rent a movie and hang out with a vat of popcorn. But not this month because my schedule is nuts.

My roots are screaming for high-lights, and I have nothing to wear. My summer wardrobe is just not me anymore. My coloring has changed. Everything I put on looks ghastly. Maybe I should get a spray tan. Oh, and there was a miracle skin-clearing product I read about in Oprah Magazine. I wonder if they FedEx? And what about dinner? First, I must get the clothes into the drier and iron my work shirts. Did I water the plants yet? I need to pick a specific day each week so I won’t keep forgetting. Thank goodness the cats have a self-feeding/watering device. I can’t believe the roses on my desk are dying already. I hope I remember not to buy them from that store again.

Oops, there goes my cellphone. It’s my mom calling for our weekly chat. I’ll have to call her back. Because my main goal is to be a writer. And the truth is, I haven’t spent nearly enough time pursuing this dream. Next week, after my husband upgrades my computer system, I’ll begin. No sense in losing my prose to an unanticipated computer crash, right? Next Wednesday it is! I’m committed. Once I return from my 3-day trip as a flight attendant, after I work out, return phone calls, run errands, do the laundry, water the plants, give the husband and cats some love, prepare dinner…

I’ll be happy then.

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