Tuesday, February 2, 2016

"Neither snow nor rain nor dark of night . . ." Part VII - Wrapping It Up



The storm was getting stronger as the testimonies ended.  Sharon and I walked to the nearest large street to search out a cab.  Nary one to be found.  So – we braced ourselves for the half-mile walk to Union Station.  Here I was, a San Diegan, walking through a blizzard with snow-covered glasses (why haven’t they invented wipers yet?) and frozen feet (boots can only stay warm for so long).  My mind wandered to a movie my husband and I watched a week prior to the trip, “Everest”.  I could see Sharon and I like two of the climbing casualties, curled up in a ball frozen stiff in a snow drift. 

The drive to Stafford, VA


We finally made it to Union Station and stood in the expansive lobby for a minute or two to take in the warmth and catch our breath.  Knowing the roads were getting more dangerous by the minute, we needed to get moving or be stranded in D.C. indefinitely.  I braced myself for another five-hour drive (normal time was forty-five minutes), but road crews were all over the place, trying to get salt put down.  It did take us longer than usual, but we only slid a few times and made it home before dark, praise God. We were greeted by Jeff and three precious furbabies – Winston, Jacob, and Reba, reminding me of how much I missed my own husband and critters. Exhausted by the day’s events and drive, it didn’t take long to retire for the night.  How nice it was to have quiet, cool room to sleep in.


Winter Wonderland
My poor toe!
The next morning I glanced out the window and was awestruck by the amount of snow on the ground.  Roads were closed and school closures were already being announced for the coming week which gave me pause as to if I was going to be able to fly out on Tuesday.  I showered and it was then I discovered a nasty bruise on my toe.  At first, I foolishly thought it was frostbite – mentally preparing myself for it falling off.  What actually happened was my boot creased wrong on the trek back to Union Station.


"Sis" and "Bro"
Sharon and Jeff

The weather and my sore toe failed to deter us from enjoying our time together.  There were movies to watch, Wii bowling and many long discussions on a variety of topics.  By Monday, the roads improved enough for us to venture out for breakfast and a drive around the area.  Sharon and Jeff had planned on taking me to some historic battlefields, but all grounds were closed.  (We did manage to see one – from the entrance only).


Although I missed my family, I was enjoying the time with my “sis” and “bro”, secretly hoping I might be delayed a few more days.  Tuesday rolled around and my flight was on schedule and the roads to the airport clear … DRAT!


After a tearful good-bye, I entered the terminal. Before checking in, I felt the “urge” and found the restroom.  Not having an internal GPS, I turned right instead of left upon exiting the facilities, walking for miles on end (well, that’s a stretch) with a sore toe before realizing I was on the wrong side of the terminal for my airline.  Since I was unable to do any souvenier shopping earlier, I had wanted to grab a few things from the airport gift shop but time was slipping away.  I finally found my airline and checked in, and waited impatiently to clear security.  As I reached the checkpoint, they had one of those glass tube x-ray machines.  I walked in, raised my arms waited to be motioned through.  WRONG  I was pulled aside for a pat-down.  My glittered shirt lit up the security screen like a Christmas tree.  Tick, tock, tick, tock.  My shopping time was diminishing.   

With minutes to spare, I located the nearest gift shop.  I snagged some t-shirts and coffee cups, paid the bill and rushed to my gate.  From a distance, a voice bellowed…. “Ma’am!  Ma’am!”. I ignored it, but as it got closer, I turned around.  A woman panted, “Did you just leave the gift shop?”  I nodded.  “You left your wallet.”  I looked into my purse and my heart sank.  She sprinted with me back to the shop and yes, indeed, it was mine.  I thanked her and the clerk a gazillion times before sprinting back to the gate where the plane was boarding.  WHEW!   

The flight to San Francisco was uneventful (thank God) and I was able to stretch out a little due to an empty seat between another passenger and me.  In fact, we gave each other a thumb’s up as the plane pulled back.  The three-hour layover in San Francisco gave me adequate time to go outside for fresh air and pick up a loaf of sourdough bread (my husband’s favorite).  I chose to sit outside (sans jacket), bask in the warm sun, read a little and enjoy an iced coffee.  All was right with the world.  Of course, going back through security resulted in another pat-down with that darned shirt. 

That’s it, folks … I boarded the flight to San Diego and was met by my loving husband.  My dogs jumped all over me when I walked in the door but gave me a betrayed look after taking a few whiffs of my jeans ... bearing the scent of Winston, Jacob and Reba.      

I want to take a few moments to share a few thoughts on the March.  

First off, according to mainstream media, a “small” group braved the blizzard.  Below is a picture of the small group:


Secondly, I want to comment on the number of young people who participated.  Although I don’t know the percentage of youth vs. adults, it would suffice to say the term pro-life generation is right on target.   

Last, but not least, many had to turn around and miss the March and though disappointed, they should know we felt their presence.  Others were stranded in D.C. and on highways after the March including some of my friends from Silent No More.  I want to thank God for getting everyone home safely.     

It was an experience of a lifetime but I hope and pray the next time I visit D.C. it will not be to bring attention to the devastation of abortion but to celebrate the end of it with the reversal of Roe v Wade.    



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