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As the man said......

  • Padre
  • Feb 12, 2019
  • 5 min read

2019-02-12 Tuesday

Frankfurt, Germany

Hilton Airport Hotel

Left The Hermitage Saturday morning. Gayle, my sister, and Jim, her husband, drove me to Houston where we spent the night at the Hilton Airport Garden Inn. Really enjoyed the time with them. In the last few years our relationship has really deepened, for which I’m thankful.

The next morning they left to go Museum hopping and I caught the shuttle to the airport. As usual, the flow didn’t go quite as planned. The web showed their ticket counter opened at 12:00 noon. When I arrived, bags in hand, the lone attendant who was setting up the lanes, said it would be about 20 minutes. So I took a seat near Starbucks and reviewed again the preplanning I'd done for all hassles associated with the check-in and TSA screening that was to come.

When the counter finally opened I dutifully handed the young agent my passport and started to show him my phone with my pre-check-in info.

MAJOR CRISIS!!! I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. I went through every pocket of my clothes, my sling-bag, and my shoulder bag. Nothing! ’d just had it!! I rushed (well...to be more accurate....trundled) back to the chair where I had been sitting three minutes before. Nothing! The airline agent went over and checked again, then asked Starbucks if anyone had handed in a phone. Nothing! I took out my iPad and pinged Find My iPhone. Nothing!!! No sound. No little blue thingee on the screen! Nothing!

Just as I was deciding between having a stroke or a complete melt-down, a young lady came up and said, “Starbucks said this might be your phone. It was it under the chair.” God bless the angels of this world!! I was so shook up all I could do was thank her multiple times and give her a hug. Only later did it occur to me that I should at least have bought her a Starbucks.

The take-away from this little episode?? For seventy some-odd years I was known for my coolness and calmness under stress. Since my cancer treatment and my thyroid problems it seems like I fall apart at the least little thing. Oh, how I long for the good ole days!

Instead, playing the hand I’ve been dealt, I’m really working on meditating, gaining inner peace, calm and detachment. Really thought I’d made some progress until 12:05, Sunday. Nope! Still have a long way to go. I’m just thankful I have a loving God watching over me, and the legions of angels He must be sending to keep me out of trouble. (Why do I keep hearing echos of "...fools and drunks...?")

Onward!

Some of the angels He sends are the attendants who help the handicapped. This time it was a young man who shepherded me through TSA screening. Even after all the preparation I’d done beforehand it was still an ordeal.

One laptop, check.

One iPad, check.

One vest, check.

One jacket, check.

Pants pockets are empty, check.

Two trekking poles, check.

One sling bag (minus said iPad,) check.

Pockets are empty, check.

One carry-on (minus said laptop,) check.

One CPAP bag, check.

One shoulder bag (holding anything and everything metal,) check.

Pockets are empty, yes, I checked that already.

“Do you have any implants?” Yes, both knees and both hips. “Walk into the machine, face forward” and assume the pose. (the latter from the picture in the booth.)

Alarm! Alarm! Pat down! Must be implants. Pick up all items above from five different bins. Check.

My angel pushed me the long, long distance to the Lufthanza Lounge. Yes, he or someone would be back about about thirty minutes before flight time to take me to the gate.

They are unbelievably helpful. What a blessing!

Had quiet light lunch in the Lounge and rested. A middle aged gentleman sat down a couple of chairs away and we acknowledged each other. At the appointed time, my angel came back and took me to the gate. And here’s where their true beauty shows up. There must have been fifteen of us of all nationalities who were being helped by wheelchair attendants. The anxiety level was palpable and yet the attendants were as calm as could be, explaining the boarding process multiple times in quiet, calming voices.

Finding my seat on the plane, a deeply accented voice behind me asked it I needed help putting my carry-on in the overhead bin. “Thank you. It would be greatly appreciated.” “Looks like we’ll be sitting together.” Another angel! It was the gentleman from the Lounge. He was a Nigerian businessman on his way home after a business trip to America. He fell asleep almost immediately. We didn’t converse much because of his limited English and my non-existent Nigerian. I always feel so provincial in such situations. Many of the people I encounter speak multiple languages and I have to rely on a translation app on my phone for even rudimentary questions.

Angels galore! At Frankfurt, a bevy (flock? herd? Certainly not a gaggle!) of attendants was waiting to take all of us through customs. I was attended by two young (20 somethings?) women who cheerfully chatted together as they rolled me through what seems like miles of corridors. A quick conversation with the Immigration Officers cleared us to baggage claim where these two fragile looking young women hoisted my bags off the conveyor belt like they were nothing, and we were off again.

We kept going and going with them pushing me and rolling my bags until I finally asked, “How far are you going to take me?” The answer stunned me. “To the Hotel.” This was staggering. It literally is all the way through the terminal, across the driveways (short cut) up the elevator and all the way across the the floor above the train tracks to the big building the locals call the Whale. As I thanked them profusely I tried to give them a big tip for all their effort. “No, we’re not allowed to take tips. Someone will be back to pick you up in the morning. Have the hotel call us.” And they disappeared out the front doors.

EPILOGUE

This blog is probably way too long, but if you’re still with me…

As I checked into my wonderful room (which another angel--my travel agent--had obtained for me) the experiences of the day reminded me of the story about the man who fell from the top of the skyscraper. As he passed the third floor he was heard to say, “So far, So good…..”

Pictures: The adventure begins, 1/3 of 'The Whale', Supper at The Paulaner.

 
 
 

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