Screaming Brats On A Plane
Flying home at last. Our mission is complete, Oma laid to rest and now we can fly home and resume our normal everyday lives. Now would be a good time to write any remaining thoughts on this trip.
I don’t even want to think about the state of Oma right now. Lying in her casket, same pose and facial expression, except 6 feet under soil. Every day she… that I’m sure you can figure out.
This has been one sad trip. I was right. After Ida’s funeral, the next trip to Chicago would be even sadder. And it was.
It just dawned on me that I truly will never set foot in Oma’s house again. I salvaged what I wanted and left the house for good before the closing. Too many items left behind, possessions of Oma and Opa, their fates up in the air. Truly, I think this is the last time I will ever visit Chicago.
This is it. Get me out of Chicago. NOW.
What reason is there to visit Chicago anymore? No more Grandma and Grandpa, no more Oma and Opa. They have all gone and so are the reasons to look forward to coming here again.
We can turn on our handhelds now.
Ta ta.
“Excuse me, do you know about dance in the hall?” – Man on the El
Getting ready to take off from Atlanta. On TIME?! Unreal.
Last flight home before my life returns to normal. That’s enough funerals for now. I mean seriously, 2 funerals in 14 months? C’mon. I don’t want to have to write a third travel log on going to a funeral.
Think about this. Yesterday, just yesterday was Oma’s funeral. That was a sad sight, my family standing by the casket weeping, but me, I was trying to stay strong. Not even thoughts of her being in a better place free from suffering could console me. I have no grandparents left.
We are getting ready to take off. Not quite on the runway but not quite at the gate either. Either way, we’re not moving.
Now we moving. I have left behind the sad city of Chicago, probably never to return. The only reasons Chicago was fun were my relatives, and they’re gone now.
There’s something fishy in the numbers.
1920 – Oma born.
1941 – Oma marries.
1951 – Oma moves to U.S.
1981 – Opa dies.
2001 – Uncle Vic dies.
2013 – Oma dies.
10 years between Oma getting married and moving to the U.S.
30 years later Opa would die.
20 years later Vic would die.
12 years later Oma would die.
Just looking for patterns.
Can’t think of anything else to write. I think I’ve got all the bases covered, Oma, Chicago, not coming back, death, the afterlife.
Unbelievable. Just months ago I visited Oma at the nursing home and now, she’s gone.
Now’s our turn to take off.
WHY THE LONG FACE, DIALER? FINDING IT HARD TO CONTINUE HOLDING THE CALLS FOR ME? WELL, GIVE THEM TO SOMEONE ELSE!
Yeah, tomorrow I go back to work. Back to making courtesy calls for AT&T for very little pay.
Why haven’t we taken off yet?
Can’t take off at 1 mile per hour. Yeah. It may save on gas but it doesn’t give us the lift to clear the runway.
Now we taking off.
Goodbye, Chicago.
Goodbye, Oma.
Goodbye.
Please don’t let there be a third funeral log.
The End
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