By Erika Hoffman
Dad is 88. He lives with me. About
every 7 months, he flies from my house in
North Carolina to my sister’s home, near
Chicago.
It is doable, but it’s not easy, especially in these
days of color coded alerts.
When we make the airline
reservations, we order wheelchair
transportation. The attendant can swiftly propel
us though security check points and down long
airport corridors more effortlessly than if we
push Dad ourselves.
This past May, I scooted up to the United
Airlines counter for my courtesy pass so that I
could accompany Dad to the gate and sit with him
until his plane departed. I also needed to get
the wheelchair attendant summoned. I had parked
Dad by a leafy, potted plant before I got in
line. I was the next customer at both stations.
However, at one counter a frazzled lady got into
an altercation with the ticketing agent and
called him ‘rude’; he replied that he was just
doing his job and could not book her changes
with her constant talking. He said, “I’ll just
stand here and you go on and tell me all you
need to say and when you are finished, I’ll type
in the information.”She began jabbering,
seemingly unaware of the sarcastic intent of his
remark. At the other kiosk & counter, there were
three very hefty women with their three, tiny
yapping dogs. The agent was bending
over backwards to accommodate their needs. At
one point, the couple behind me who was
accompanied by a US soldier asked the first clerk if
it was difficult to use the kiosk without help.
To which he barked, “If you can read, it’s
easy.”
I thought to myself: Hold
back, be patient, keep your eye on the ball,
which is getting the courtesy pass. Finally, the dogs and their owners
scurried on their way. The clerk who was exceedingly patient
with them seemed miffed when I asked for a
courtesy pass. He sighed audibly.“Do you have id?”I handed him my passport not wanting to
waste time on words. He ran it through some
machine and announced, “Oh, this is not
working.”Since my documentation was valid and
since I spied that worried look on Dad’s face, I
found my gumption.
“I get courtesy passes all the time. My dad
is quite old and is sitting over there.” I
pointed at him. “This is not a time consuming
process." He then handed me the
pass.
What I thought would take
mere moments consumed 20 minutes! Before I
entered the ticketing line, I told Dad what I
had to do. Trouble is he forgets anything I tell
him after ten seconds. So, I swiveled my head around every half
minute to glimpse my aged father shifting his
weight and darting his eyes around with a
frightened expression, searching for me. I knew
he was going to get jittery soon and start
complaining.
Anyway, I told the
unfriendly ticketer about the ordered wheel
chair (which I had already asked the skycap
about outside before handing him a five dollar
bill) and soon an Indian attendant appeared. She
wasted no time in putting Dad in the chair and
briskly wheeled him toward the elevator. We
zoomed to the security portal. Surprisingly, it was not busy. The lines
were short at RDU on this Saturday afternoon. The black guard joked pleasantly with my
old father. Most people are very solicitous I’ve
found, and I do appreciate “the kindness of
strangers” toward my elderly parent. In fact, I often depend on it when Dad is
traveling alone.
The Indian lady spoke
limited English but was very efficient and
quickly removed all Dad’s belongings that might
set off alarms. She whisked him through. I had only to
care for myself. By the time I slid on my sandals,
gathered up my purse, cell phone, and
identifying passport, she had Dad back in the
wheelchair and was tying his sneakers. In fact, I bent over to make a double
knot, and she told me that she had already tied
them securely.
Without a hitch, she rolled
him to the gate. I had to do double time to keep up. When
we arrived at the point of departure, I thanked
her. Dad produced a five dollar bill from his
pocket and handed it to the woman. Then, I
helped Dad out of the wheelchair so she could
take it back with her. Only a few paces away
were rows of chairs. Dad would be fine sitting
in one of them until his flight boarded. He
clutched his cane and needed to take a step or
two before he could plop down again.
She whisked the chair away
as soon as Dad arose.
He slowly
began the walk. He hobbled. He grimaced, and his
one foot twisted onto its side. He seemed to
lose his balance, and I feared a fall.
“Are you okay?” I asked
him. I
thought Dad was woozy from getting up too fast. Then, his leg looked as though he had
sudden paralysis. Was Dad having a stroke?
“My foot, Erika.”
“What’s the matter with
your foot, Dad?”
“I think there’s something
in my shoe.”
“Dad, now how can that be? We took off your sneakers for the scanner
and the nice lady, who pushed you, put them back
on.”
“There’s a rock in there!”
“Dad, you have not been out
in the woods. How could there be a rock in
there?”I figured he was just complaining about a
twinge, a sudden pang of arthritis, or a turned
ankle. Maybe
he was getting antsy about his flight. Dad can be a Nervous Nellie whenever
there is a transition. And going to stay with my sister for a
few weeks might have him a bit unsettled. Yet, I
said, “I’ll check, Dad.”I find it is easier to humor old people
than argue with them. They are like little children sometimes,
and with them it is simpler to open the closet
door and prove there is no ghost than
pontificate on why Casper is not haunting
their bedroom. So, I knelt down before my dad. Show, don’t tell.
On creaking knees, I untied
the double knot on the right sneaker. I yanked off his footwear.
There in his sneaker lay
his metal wristwatch--- on its side, no less.
Bigger than a rock!
“Gees, no wonder your foot
hurt, Dad! Your doggone watch was tucked in your
shoe!”
He began laughing. I
laughed too. Soon all the folks seated around us
heehawed.
It’s a post 9-11 world!
And, for the elderly going through
airport security, it is just one more challenge
to face in old age. Yet, no snafu is without its
humor! And old folks who might forget a lot
don’t forget to laugh at the funny things that
happen to them because of their age and the
situation they are in. Thank Heavens for
laughter and good humor and amazing Grace! Especially when old and traveling the
friendly and skies!
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