Life Happens...The Ending

Quite frankly, I’m ready to put January with its dreary weather and tragic events behind. Since my last blog in which I recalled the demise of my uncle and my dad’s own brush with death,
other events have occurred. A family friend lost her husband of 15 years in an accident leaving behind two beautiful girls; a colleague underwent a heart procedure, and a colony of bats invaded our local school. But I promised to chronicle my adventure in St. Louis and Texarkana, so with this entry I will lay the month to rest.

My sister (Paula) and I change plans in Chicago and are seated next to a handsome, young man on his way home to New York.  We strike up a conversation and spend much of the flight exchanging thoughts on the situation in Haiti and other subjects suitable for stranger dialogue.

The turbulence tosses our small plane like a discarded wrapper; Paula closes her eyes and clutches the arm rests beside her.  As we descend, the gentleman, whose name I never asked, pats her hand until we touch down.  Meeting him, my faith in man is renewed.

It’s close to 11:45 p.m. when we reach St. Louis. We search for the Avis Rental desk and find that none of the rental agencies are open. Thus begins our wild goose chase.  Sister and I aren’t afraid to stop and ask for directions. In fact, it’s a great way to meet new folks. So, we found a man in an official uniform of some sort and related our dilemma. “No problem,” he says. “Just take the stairs and then cross the street over there and behind that such-and-such you’ll see a telephone. Pick it up and ask for the Avis shuttle.”

Great, I think to myself…piece of cake. Well, the cake was not all that great. We lug our bags up the stairs, and cross the street in the freezing mist to the parking lot. We spot a telephone, but it looks just like any other pay phone which is obviously not the phone our helpful friend had in mind.  I pick up the receiver in spite of this hoping I might hear a friendly voice on the receiving end.

Another trip back up the stairs and we end up where we began at the Avis desk. A couple of spins later on the airport merry-go-round, and we hustle a ride on a shuttle which takes us to an off-site Avis office. Mission accomplished. Have rental, will travel.

We arrive at my aunt’s home in Lake St. Louis well after midnight. Just like Motel 6, the porch light is on. Our cousins Leonard Ray, Chris, and Jeff greet us with hugs and kisses, and the smell of comfort food wafts in the air. For that one moment, little else matters. Life is a strange occasion my sister once told me. Nothing could be truer.