“Late bag,” the man behind the counter said. “It’s less than 45 minutes before your flight.”
“I’ve been in line almost that long,” I said.
“Sorry,” he said. “We can’t guarantee its arrival,” and he slapped a bright red sticker on my bag that said, “LATE CHECK
When I landed in Oakland, I watched each bag roll down the metal chute and none were mine. I stood in line at the Lost Baggage Counter and listened to the woman behind the counter as she took people’s addresses and told them their bags would be delivered that same afternoon.
When it was my turn, the woman behind the counter looked at my baggage claim ticket and shook her head. “You were a late check,” she said. “It’s not our responsibility to deliver your bag. It should be on the next flight which arrives in…” she paused, checked her monitor, “Three hours.”
“Thanks,” I said. Three hours. I had left my husband and our son at home, which meant the refrigerator would be empty. I decided to go grocery shopping. […]
gratitude bags, family, thanksgiving
Leaves are falling off trees, which means it’s time for me to take out my recipes. When it’s my turn to cook Thanksgiving dinner, I choose recipes from both sides of our families. But a few years ago, I added a new item.
I wanted to create a ritual that allowed us to take time as a group to reflect on what we loved about each person. […]
I remember well the feeling of going from being a twosome—a married couple without a child—to a threesome—new parents with a baby. The leap was tremendous. My husband and I might as well have jumped over the Grand Canyon. Life was that different for us. We had no idea that a six-pound, six-ounce baby girl would take up so much space in our home, our marriage and our hearts. […]
Every now and then I hear a story that touches me. Dan, my husband, had an old friend in town from Wisconsin. I knew his friend’s father was home under Hospice care. I remembered the last report I heard was that the father was supposed to have passed on a while ago.
When my husband returned home from a visit with his friend, I asked about the father.
“Cake and ice cream,” Dan said.
“What?” I asked. […]