January 14
9A.M. – I still have time to back out.
I start my day calculating the hours until I have to leave: 6 hours. Ignoring all clocks I try to make the most of my final hours. Despite the cold weather, I take Zoe for a walk. Quality time with the Chubster as well as my last glimpse of Northeast Philly [not that it’s any great shakes – but it’s still home].
12P.M. – I still have time to back out.
Lunch with my Mom in the dining room feels tense. Simple PB&J sandwiches have turned depressing – it is my last meal at home. Mom tries to keep us busy, going over what else needs to be done: finish packing, weigh the luggage, make sure I have packed everything I want & need. Unfortunately, I think to myself, I can’t pack my parents, big brother and dog into those suitcases. I go to my room and cry. I cry because I don’t want to leave. The tears, however, are quickly wiped away. Mom is coming up the stairs to help me.
3P.M. – I still have time to back out.
Michael is home. I’m on the living room floor saying “goodbye” to Zoe. I’m trying so hard not to cry. I can’t cry – not yet. Michael & Dad have taken my stuff out to the car & Mom is telling me “it’s time to go.” Already? How can that be? Not too long ago I was packing up for the start of Fall Semester in my Junior year. Now here I am, starting Spring Semester of Junior year. I want to cry. I want to beg my Mom: “Don’t make me go! I changed my mind! Let me stay! Please?!” But I stand up, pat the dog one last time and say “goodbye” to my house. I climb into the back seat of the car & stare out the window. It feels like Dad is driving slower than usual and I am not sure if I am thankful or ungrateful. Am I thankful for a few extra minutes in the car with my family? Or am I ungrateful that Dad is prolonging my inevitable departure?
3:30P.M. – I still have time to back out.
The black Le Sabre pulls into Departures in A Terminal of Philadelphia International Airport. Lanette is already inside waiting with her Mom. Tammy calls me to tell me she is almost there. Michael takes my bags inside, Dad leaves to park the car, Mom & I hold hands as we walk behind Michael. Standing in line I keep my eyes on Mon & Michael – memorizing their faces. Dad comes in a few minutes later & I watch him walk toward us. There’s plenty of time to watch my family since the British Airways counter seems to be lacking representatives today. I am doing everything I can to cherish my last few moments with my family.
4P.M. – I still have time to back out.
A British Airways rep has finally come to the counter. I wait in line with my family. Soon – too soon – it is my turn to check-in. The woman looks at my passport, hands it back to me with my boarding pass. Michael places my luggage on the scale. We had all been worried it was over the maximum weight limit. Luckily each suitcase was a few pounds under the limit. We stand there, watching, until my bags are placed on the conveyor belt taking them to unseen parts of the airport where they will hopefully be put on the right plane. We leave the line, waiting for Tammy to check-in and the tears have started. Pictures are taken of three red-eyed girls embarking on their semester-long adventure. Presents are opened: seven guide books and scarves: necessities in the big, cold city. I cannot stop the rush of tears. I cling to Mom. I literally cannot let go of her – my body refuses. She tells me she loves me, that she is so proud of me and that she will see me very soon. I know that as soon as I land I will start counting down the days to February 21st, the day that Mom will land in London to visit me. I turn around to hug my big brother and I see that he is wiping away tears – he’s even busted out the tissues for everyone. He says “come on, stop crying, you’re gonna have so much fun.” I tell him “I know, but I wanna have fun with my big brother.” “You will soon enough.” Again, I know that when I land I will count down the days till March 5th, the day Michael will arrive in London. I give him the biggest hug I can manage through my tears & tell him I love him, that I am going to miss him. Then I see Dad. Dad’s a little teary-eyed, too. Once again, I will be counting down the days till March 26th, when it will be Dad’s turn to see London.
4:45 P.M. – I still have time to back out.
I give everyone one more big hug and throw out as many “I love you’s” as I can. It’s time to go. It’s time to say goodbye. But maybe not. What if I stayed? What if I went back to CHC like I should be? What if I didn’t go to London? Would I disappoint my family and friends? Would I disappoint myself? Probably. I know this is my adventure. “It would be an awfully big adventure.” But I just want to stay home where it’s safe – where I know everyone and everything. I’m not ready for the unknown. The three of us grab our bags, give some more hugs and kisses and make our way to the gate. Going up the escalator I throw out a big wave to my family, holding back the tears that are fighting to get out. We get through airport security, find our gate, and sit. No one says anything. I pull out my phone and start texting. I’m not going to be able to text anyone from home for 3 ½ months, might as well do it now. I text Michael: “we’re at the gate…got through security fine…love you all! miss you already!!” I text Mom: “i love you! i miss you!” I text friends: “miss you guys already! can’t wait to see you!!!”
6P.M. – I still have time to back out.
It’s now time to board the plane. We get in line, show our boarding passes and passports, find our seats. It feels routine for me. I’ve flown so many times in my life – I know the drill. But I keep my eye out for Tammy who is walking on a plane for the first time in her life. I hope and pray she doesn’t lose it. She’s my best friend, but I don’t know if I can help her get through this right now – I’m too weepy. I’m also still texting my brother and my Mom. I settle into my seat and stare at the door: I still have time. I can grab my stuff, get off the plane, call Michael and tell them to turn around. I can still go home! There’s still time to fix this stupid mistake I have made!
6:30P.M. – It’s too late. I’m stuck.
The flight attendant closes the door. Shit. The time for bailing has passed. There is no longer a way out. I am officially, 100% stuck and headed to London with only the thought of flying home again. Deep breath. I only get one shot at this. I have to make it count.
