Reset “Recalculating…” When things don’t go as planned

The Youngest and I flew into Boston with a team from our church on a mission trip to do sports camps in New Hampshire several years ago. Our team leader took his GPS to use in the rental car on the drive to Manchester. He set the coordinates for our destination and a few hours later we found ourselves in a warehouse parking lot. Not where we were supposed to be. So, he reset the GPS and a mechanical voice announced, “Recalculating…” Cheerfully, we set out again.

Shortly, we found ourselves at a second destination. Not where we were supposed to be.

Reset, “Recalculating…”

This happened four more times until we finally arrived at our destination, unpacked our bags, and fell into our beds. We adopted “Recalculating…” as our team motto. And we learned some valuable lessons in flexibility that week.

This past Labor Day weekend, our family gathered at our oldest’s house in North Carolina hoping for a low key time of family, food, and relaxation. Our one planned event was to make a family photo that included all of us, a rare occurrence with the kids scattered over three states.

Kent and I wanted to get an early start Friday morning but knew if we didn’t manage it, we could caravan with the Middle One and his family after lunch. The day before we left, I slammed my thumb in the car door. Let me just say, crunching the thumb on your dominant hand is a good reminder of all the uses it has. It took me longer to do e-ver-y thing, so we caravanned.

The Youngest had to work through the night on Friday and had scheduled her flight for late Saturday morning. If all went smoothly, she would fly into the Greensboro, NC airport around 10:30 p.m. and a couple of us would drive the two hour round trip to retrieve her. Sunday would be picture day. We would all be together for the first time since November. Monday after lunch, the Oldest would drive Kent, me, and The Youngest back to Greensboro and Kent and I would fly to Tacoma with her to for a week-long visit. The Middle One and his family would travel back home. But, “The best laid plans of mice and men oft’ go awry.”*

Our caravan reached NC about eight on Friday night. We put the babies to bed and the grownups sat down over homemade soup and grilled cheese to catch up. Daughter-in-love seemed quiet, but she hadn’t felt well the day before and it had been a long drive with two little ones. Even when she migrated to the couch, we figured she was probably just tired. Nope. An hour and a half later, she and The Middle One were en route to Winston-Salem, with its rising COVID cases, to an emergency room. After dropping her off at the door, The Middle One spent the rest of the night in the parking deck since he wasn’t allowed inside and she spent the night in the waiting room beside a man in handcuffs who was demanding to be seen or he would take matters into his own hands. Thankfully, the nice police officer with him had the situation under control. The Middle One called at five a.m. to tell us he was now inside with Daughter-in-love waiting to have her gall bladder removed.

Reset, “Recalculating…”

They spent the day in the ER waiting on surgery and a room to open up for Daughter-in-love. The Oldest brought out her coloring books and she, Kent, and I spent the day playing with the babies. Mid-afternoon, the Middle One called to say that the surgery schedule was full for the day and our patient would have her surgery first thing Sunday morning. He would be home later that afternoon. Visitors weren’t allowed overnight.

Then, The Youngest called. Her flight was being rerouted to Oklahoma City due to wind shear and there was a possibility she wouldn’t get to Dallas in time to make her connection. In the event she missed it however, there was a later flight from Dallas to Charlotte which would work, but would entail an extra two hours driving time as well as the hour delay.

Reset, “Recalculating…”

The Middle One showed up for dinner as expected, much to his children’s delight. He reassured them their mommy would be fine and tried, good daddy that he is, to spend some time with them, but we sent him to bed after we found him asleep on the couch. Soon afterwards, The Youngest checked in to say she made her connection in Dallas after all and would be in Greensboro on time barring any more delays. We bathed the small ones, read them bedtime stories, and put them to bed, then Kent and the Oldest set off to fetch The Youngest.

Around midnight, the airport delegation arrived back with The Youngest in tow, a little the worse for wear. Seems they had found her at baggage claim in the process of learning that while she had made her connection, her luggage had not.

Reset, “Recalculating…”

It was still in Dallas. After being up and working for two full days and a night, traveling through three airports, and rushing to make connections, things finally got the best of her. There had been tears. They gave her a good long hug, put her in the car, bought her hot food to go with the care package her sister had packed for her, and brought her home. Thankfully, savvy traveler that she is, she had packed her toothbrush and toiletries in her backpack. The Oldest handed her clean pajamas and underwear and sent her to the shower and bed.

I woke up early Sunday morning to discover The Middle One had already slipped out hoping to see his wife before surgery. He told us later that he barely made it in time to have a quick prayer together before they took her to pre-op. The youngest got a message that her luggage had made it to Greensboro, but since the only real essentials were the clothes for the family photo that wasn’t going to happen, she decided to let it sit at the airport and wait to be picked up on the way to our flight out the next day. We designated Sunday a pajama day, washed The Youngest’s clothes, and waited for news on our patient. The Youngest spent the day getting reacquainted with her niece and nephew.

Sunday night, Daughter-in-love, her surgery having gone well, rejoined us, and finally we were all under the same roof. We even got to sing Happy Birthday to The Middle One and eat the chocolate cake that the three year old had been bursting all weekend to tell her dad was in the refrigerator as a surprise for him. There was Scrabble, teasing among the siblings, and reminiscing. When we reshuffled the bedroom assignments and put people on the couch and floor to make sure Daughter-in-love wouldn’t have to climb stairs, it reminded me of Cynthia Rylant’s The Relatives Came book where there are people sleeping in every room and lots of love and family in the house.

Monday, we got to take that family photo, without the NC mountain background we’d hoped for, but with all of us together-which was the important part. Then, The Oldest shuttled Kent, The Youngest, and me to the airport to get the wayward luggage and board our flight to Tacoma-where we arrived three hours after the smoke from the wildfires got there.

Reset, “Recalculating…”

That phrase means things haven’t gone as planned, kind of like this whole year of 2020, but in our case, doing so enabled us to salvage our family weekend, savor the good parts, support each other through the not so good ones, and make some really good memories in spite of all the challenges. The Middle One and family stayed a few extra days with The Oldest until Daughter-in-love could travel and had some bonus time together. Kent and I finally got to see The Youngest’s apartment with the view of Mt. Rainier…through the smoke. But you know what? So many people in California and Washington have lost homes and jobs and loved ones. I have no complaints. I’m thankful for our family, for our relationships, and for our chance to reset, recalculate, and enjoy being together.

Be safe! Be well! Be blessed!

 

*”To A Mouse” by Robert Burns