Big Surprise...

Before I knew it, those 2 months had passed and I was on my way to the airport to fly out and see him. I. Was. Terrified. Keep in mind, I had flown once before. I guess twice if you count the trip there and the trip back as separate occurrences. And that time, I was with, what could be considered “experienced flyers”. Basically, I have no doubt in my mind that they could have done the entire process blindfolded and probably wouldn’t have even run into any chairs or anything.

But, here I was, completely by myself. Thankfully, my parents drove me to the airport and made sure I got in the right line—despite them also being VERY inexperienced flyers (my mom’s never been on a plane, and I think it had been about 10 years since my dad was on one).

As I was standing in line to get through security, I said goodbye to my parents. Turns out, saying goodbye isn’t any easier, even when you know something very exciting is waiting on the other end. By the time they walked away, I was bawling with everyone staring at this inexperienced flyer. And, for the record, yes, I was wearing my sunglass in the airport in an attempt to cover this up.

I made it through the security line without a hitch, which is more than I can say for the last time I flew. And was surprised to discover that navigating the airport to find my gate wasn’t as hard as I had anticipated. Although it WAS all the way on the other side of the airport and took me about 20 minutes to get there, even with the moving sidewalks.

I found my gate and sat there. Despite being about 2 hours early, I stayed there and only left to go to the bathroom which was about 50 yards away and still in full view of the gate and where I needed to be. No exploring the airport “just for fun” for this girl!

I finally boarded the plane and felt relieved. I knew that the next two hours would be unstressful because all I had to do was sit. I landed in Raleigh-about a 2 1/2 hour drive from where Steve was. When I landed and turned my phone on, I got a message from Steve saying that he had to work a little later than anticipated, and I would have to wait a while until he could come pick me up. I was a little bummed, but happy to finally be at my destination, where I didn’t have to worry about being in the right spot at the right time anymore. I survived my first flight!

I managed to find my way to baggage claim and was waiting for my bag to come around on the carousel and Steve came walking up beside me. The little stinker had taken the whole day off and knew that he was coming to get me, and on time, but didn’t want me to know until I got there and saw him. I was so excited!

My bag finally came around and we were on our way. Although me flying to Raleigh, instead of Jacksonville was kind of a pain in the butt for Steve (I refused to take a connecting flight, considering how terrified I was about the flight when it was just a straight shot), I’m glad that I did it. Because the drive from Raleigh to Jacksonville was the very first time that I fell in love with North Carolina. I was amazed, and discovered that despite my previous notions that North Carolina would be “nothing special”, I loved it. All of it. And without that drive through back roads and small southern style towns, I’m not sure I would feel the same way about it as I do now.

We drove onto base because we were staying at the hotel on base. And it seems like the further we drove, the more I liked. We stayed at the Lejeune Inn at Camp Lejeune for a couple days. Steve didn’t have to work, so we did some sightseeing and Steve showed me around base and Jacksonville. When the weekend came, we moved all of our stuff to a beach house on Topsail Island that we rented for a week with one of his buddies. It was a cute little house with a grill and the whole works for us to use. And less than a block from the ocean and public beach access. It was perfect. We spent the next week or so driving around to different tourist attractions—an aquarium, the beach, and even went down to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina to an amusement park. It was so much fun being on our own schedule. At the end of the week, Steve went off leave and had to go back to work. I stayed home and got supper ready and worked on homework and just enjoyed the nice warm weather.

We had his friends out one night for grilling so I got to meet some of the people I had hear about in phone calls and emails and seen pictures of. And we went swimming in the ocean at midnight with glow sticks. It was incredible! I loved every minute of it!

After the week was over, we headed to yet another hotel for a couple days. A few night before I had to catch a plane back to Minnesota, Steve had called his sergeant to make sure he would be able to take the afternoon off to drive me to the airport. He was assured that it would be find. We should have known better than to believe that. The morning of the day I was supposed to leave, Steven went to work. I couldn’t fall back asleep so I watched some ridiculous show on TV until Steve texted me and told me that he was not allowed to leave work and drive me to the airport. Big surprise—this probably should have been expected, it is the Marine Corps, after all. They like to jerk your chain in whatever way possible. I was devastated. I had no idea what I was going to do.

This left me with 3 options.

1. I could just not show up for my flight or pay loads of money to get it changed to another day, then attempt to explain to my boss why I wouldn’t be at work for the next few days.
2. I could pay loads of money and risk my life by trying to find a taxi that would take me all the way to Raleigh. Or,
3. I could suck up my extreme fear of driving in large(ish) cities and drive myself to the airport in Steve’s car.

Despite my desire to choose option 1, I chose option 3. So, on Steve’s lunch hour, he came back to the hotel to get me. I drove him back to work, where we had about ten minutes to say goodbye before he actually had to start working again.

I started out I Steve’s car on my way. This was the most miserable trip of my life I think. For many reasons. The first being that I hate to drive. Period. I hate to drive anywhere and am deathly afraid of driving in heavily traveled areas—which is exactly what Jacksonville is. I also hate driving even more when it is in a car I’m not sued to driving. And, as if driving in an unfamiliar area, in an unfamiliar care wasn’t bad enough, I had just said goodbye to Steve for who knows how long and cried the ENTIRE two hour car ride to the airport.

I got there though, sighed a big sigh of relief that I made it, and headed into the airport to once again face the stresses of making sure I found the right gate. When I found my gate and sat down, I continued to cry. This was one time that I HATED leaving. Saying goodbye and walking away was completely miserable. It didn’t give me the empowerment that it usually did. I struggled the whole way back home. I was ridiculously early to the airport, which didn’t help any. I think even before I made it to the airport, Steve had finished work and started heading toward Raleigh with one of his friends to retrieve his car.

We continued to text back and forth, with him continuously telling me how much closer he was getting, until I got on the plane. He was nearly to the airport by the time I boarded the plane. It was very difficult knowing that he was once again so close to me and there was nothing I could do about it. I boarded my plane and we taxied to the runway. However, when we got near the line up for takeoff, we stopped. And we waited. And we waited more. I think we sat there for about a half hour. It turns out, the control tower never gave them permission to take off, so they were waiting for permission. It was miserable. I’m not particularly fond of aircrafts to start off with, and I’m really not fond of them when I’m stuck on one that’s jam packed full of people and not going anywhere. Plus, I had to pee, already, and I REFUSE to use the bathrooms on a plane, and I had a headache, and I was an emotional basketcase. Not a fun time.

There is no doubt in my mind that Steve had made it to the airport to get his care while I was sitting in the plane on the runway. Talk about pure torture.

We finally took off, and I’m sure I fell asleep—big surprise—I usually do. I landed relatively early, and my parents were there waiting for me. On our way home, we decided to stop and say “hi” to my uncle. I didn’t realize this until just now, but it was the last tie I talked to and say him before he had his stroke and series of other medical issues that left him confused and “in another world” for the remainder of his life.

On the long drive home, I remember feeling absolutely nauseous. I think the whole day was just too much for me. I rode the whole way home with the window down suck in as much fresh air as I possibly could to keep from revisiting whatever I had for lunch that day, and to attempt to keep my “funeral headache” from getting any worse. I think eventually I fell asleep (again, big surprise) and woke up when we finally got home and went straight to bed again.

What started off as a great trip really ended in a struggle and what I thought would be my hardest goodbye. But I was wrong—big surprise.