wild blossom studios

Prologue 
The experience, yesterday, brought up many emotions instantaneously.

1. Shock - OMG feeling, with heart racing and adrenaline pumping. What is happening?
2. Shame - I'm so stupid! How could I do this?!
3. Embarrassment - Hide me somewhere. 
4. Overwhelming sadness  - My plan is derailed. I'm not going to see my husband for our anniversary, or my youngest son. I can't go on this trip. Everything I got ready is undone. I'm mad at myself. 

I wrote in third person point of view, after the event, intuitively. It seemed easier to write about the experience as the observer. 

I've had a feeling something was not right, in the few days before the trip. I couldn't pinpoint it, but my intuition was trying to tell me something.

I'm grateful that no one was hurt and it's small in the scheme of life. 

People in story:
Gillie = me
Nige = my husband/partner
Cait = sister

Setting: British Columbia, Canada 

Kimberley is a beautiful small town in the mountains of BC.
Nige and my youngest son are already in Kimberley. They drove down the week before.

Our 25th anniversary is July 12th

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So, the story goes, on their 25th anniversary...

Gillie gets ready to take the 10 hour milk run flight she booked to Cranbrook, via Edmonton and Calgary, to meet Nige in Kimberley for the week. 

Her flight is scheduled to arrive at 12:20am on July 13th. It's not their anniversary anymore, but close enough, and the cheapest flight she could find. The northern lights are supposed to be bright that night. 

Cait drives her to the Victoria airport for her 2:40pm departure.

Gillie gets her boarding cards at the self check out and goes through security. 
Security beeps as she walks through. She's asked to take off her Birkenstocks and sunglasses (she forgot she had them on the top of her head).
She walks through the security arch again, without concern. Green light. Cleared to go.

She finds a table and writes a few emails. Then she heads upstairs to her gate. Everything is running smoothly. She'll find her seat 28F, at the back of the plane, shortly. Something about 28F is nudging her, but she can't pinpoint it. "It's all good", she thinks convincing herself.

Her zone is called right away and she lines up, getting her driver’s license out of her wallet and boarding pass in hand. Her driver's license falls on the floor, face up, and she picks it up again. She feels the tingle of travel nerves.

She comes up to the young man at the gate.  He scans her boarding pass. The man looks at her driver’s license and takes longer than usual. In that split second of extra time she wonders if she doesn’t look like her photo anymore... maybe the years have really passed.

The pause lingers. 

“Your driver’s license is expired” he says.

Gillie is in complete shock and her heart starts racing. She’s thinking, “OMG. How did I let my driver’s license expire? I'm so stupid!
… and I forgot my passport. I knew I should have brought it!" 

“Do you have any other photo ID on you? Passport?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” she murmurs.

Gillie is frantically searching through her wallet for something - credit card, bank card, coffee card, expired BCTF card, Hudson’s bay card, airmiles, …” She feels like she's spewing cards all over the counter as she's reaching for something that isn't there. She knows there's nothing. Nothing to prove her identity.

“Do you have a vaccine card?”

“Those are on my desk at home," Gillie replies holding back tears. Someone behind her seems to be whispering something. 

The line behind her is diverted to the other side. People are wondering what the hold up is... they are trying to get on the plane to settle into their seats and stow away their carry ons. They're almost there. She's not moving.

The young man confers with his colleague. 
He turns back to Gillie and looks her in the eye.

“I’m sorry. I can’t board you if you don’t have any valid photo ID. You can go down to the Westjet check in and see if you can rebook your ticket.”

Gillie walks away sadly, whispering, "ok thanks," and feeling like she's really not even in her body. 

Because she booked with Flighthub, she knows she won't be able to "rebook" the ticket, or get a refund, or negotiate anything. 

She doesn't remember much after that: walking down the stairs, talking to the Westjet agent, phoning Flighthub, just in case. She can hear the plane taking off behind her, on the runway. 

She texts Cait, who is still close by in Sidney, to ask for a ride and tell her what happened.  Cait suggests they go to get her driver's license renewed. There's a place in Sidney. She helps Gillie to calm down and gives her a hug. 

Gillie walks into the driver's license office. She feels numb, like she's still out of body. She senses that the lovely woman, at the counter, feels an unspoken story. Gillie's eyes still pink from tears. The woman is extra kind. She sends her off with a paper driver’s license, an empathic smile, and a “you're good to go and legally drive again!”

And so the 25th anniversary story ends, with Gillie's renewed driver’s license in hand, no trip to Kimberley for her anniversary, and a reminder to all: check your ID before flights and/or always bring your passport. 
 
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There's so much to unpack here. I'll reflect over the next while. 

One important piece is the shame part. When you're caught in a stressful, public moment the inner work can be undone instantaneously and the emotion hits you like a freight train with no brakes.

I can rephrase "I'm so stupid" (shame) to
"I made a stupid mistake. I'll deal with the consequences and I'll work it out.  (embarrassment)  Thank you Brene Brown. xo

Inner work is a daily practice. 

I had a good cry (which I needed) and took time to reflect and work through my feelings. This is to honour that I've been living a life crammed with responsibilities, and a reminder to find time for my own needs, like renewing a driver's license. 

And, maybe the expectations of anniversaries, certain holidays.... on and on can be held less tightly and more meaningfully, in whatever they are. Hallmark and Hollywood have put a lot of pressure on us (me). Those unconscious 'shoulds' are not real anyways. This is real life. 

My oldest son, who phoned me when he heard the news, asked, "what do you need, Mom?" My sister and I both noted how good that felt to be asked. How rare it is to ask ourselves that question. 

In honour of him, I'm asking, "what do you need?" Honour this. 

Wishing you all whatever this story brings up for you. 

In wild blossom spirit, 

gillian