Tag: travel

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Security Lines

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #33

Yesterday morning, I arrived at Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson Airport at 3:15. The security lines were already hundreds deep. People were tired. Airport employees were tired.

A small man with a walkie-talkie and a smile was in charge of my section of the line. He shuffled us through. “Ten people can go to the next section.” He said. We walked forward and waited. Given the four to six-hour wait times people experienced over the last week, the kind woman behind me and I immediately made a pact that if either of us needed the bathroom, we would hold each other’s place.

The airport employees were calm, patient, and unwavered by the complaints of the angry passengers trying to scoot to the front of a line, “I’m sorry, the end of the line is this way, sir. Not here.” And they were honest with the panicking passengers. “I’m sorry, I can’t help with changing your flight.”

Like a grocery line in Kroger, my bathroom buddy and I repeatedly noticed how we chose the wrong line as we watched the people who arrived with us move forward quickly, and we split off again.

Here’s what I noticed during my three-hour wait:

Stories were shared: Conversationally, I start on second base with most people anyway, so finding connections with the people around me was quick.

People commiserated: the shared experience of being in one place with little control over their situation was humbling.

Kids stayed home: parents were smart.

Books were read: When will we ever get three hours to just read?

Empathy for the TSA agents not getting paid was present: I heard several people say things like: “I couldn’t imagine coming to work and not getting paid.” Or, “How frustrating to stand by a person (ICE agent) who IS getting paid and they are not.”

Stress and overheating: Two people passed out – they were okay.

There was self-medicating:

Dogs make everything better: I sat on the plane with a veteran with a service dog. The sweet eyes and soft ears made my day 100% better.

What I learned:

One man should not control people’s lives.

I’ve heard “This too will pass.” But when? How many wars? How many lost jobs? And lives?

So, I pray. And pray and then say one more prayer. Then I thank God for dogs. They are the only logical ones left.

Thanks for joining me,

I’m so glad you’re here.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Why you should choose the middle seat on the plane…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Throwback Thursday: Originally posted March 11, 2022

Lenten Reflections #32

16E – I recently bought a plane ticket, and when choosing my seat I was reminded the aisle and window seats cost more. Coming from a long line of thriftiness, I chose the middle seat. No extra fee. 

I slipped into my spot on the Delta flight and began observing the characters of the day. The gentleman in the aisle seat next to me (16D) who had quick access to the lavatory was dressed in denim and had a novel stuffed in the seat pocket in front of him. If our intellectual abilities were judged by the girth of the books we read, this guy would be in the genius realm. Personally, I’m still working on finishing this month’s 1/8 inch thick Reader’s Digest.

To the right was my window neighbor (16F) who noticed my inability to juggle coffee, a bag of tortillas, and a backpack, and asked if I would like to use his tray table to place my coffee. Kindness in action. I thanked him. Turns out he is one of the marvels in the world that can fall asleep as soon as the plane engines roar. His head flopped down then shot up several times the way it does when we ask our bodies to sleep vertically. In a matter of minutes, he settled into a deep slumber.

Once we bounced through the mountains and up to cruising altitude, I began writing. I noticed the aisle guy had a nasty cut on his hand, so I rifled through my wallet for a Bandaid (dad said always carry one in your wallet) and offered it to him. He thanked me and as he peeled the plastic pieces off each side of the adhesive, he told me he works with stone which causes a lot of small lesions. I closed my computer and seized the opportunity to tap into his story.

The Sculptor

En route from Santa Fe to Atlanta, New York, and finally Italy, he told me of his life as a sculptor. After high school, he spent time in Ohio, Berkely, then lived in Carrara, Italy where he learned to speak Italian.

He told me he carves mellifluous (smooth and soothing – I had to look it up) musical compositions into hard stone finding the balance and tensions of negative and positive space as he chisels away. He recently finished a piece that started out as 5,000 pounds of stone and after carving and creating ended in 1,500 pounds of beauty. It took him three months, 5-6 hours per day. He then chooses one of his galleries to place it in to sell and hopes someone who understands and appreciates his work will purchase it.

He has his art in studios from San Francisco to Aspen and quarries most of his stone in Italy. He then ships thousands of pounds of stone to his studio in Santa Fe and completes the work at his studio.

Tell me more

We talked about unnecessary stress when working as an artist and parent, current events in Ukraine, happy childhood moments with siblings, and difficult times we’d rather forget.

I told him about my kids and each of their talents. I mentioned my son with the 3-D mind as noted by an engineering professor. “You either have it or you don’t. Your son does.” I asked how he knew he wanted to sculpt. He said he was like my son. One day his dad pulled him aside when he was young and said, “You have a 3-D mind and you will not be happy if you don’t do something with your hands when you grow up. Don’t tell your mother I told you.”

It was a pleasure sitting with my new friend, hands covered in sculpting scars and the soft, gruff voice of a well-read artist. As we parted ways under the bright lights of gate B27 inside the terminal, I wished him a nice journey in Spanish and he responded with the same in Italian.

I teetered off toward baggage claim balancing a duffle bag, backpack, and the same bag of tortillas. I then heard my kind window neighbor (16F) ask if he could help me carry my things to baggage claim. I declined, thanking him again for his compassion, and headed straight to the restroom. I love the middle seat, I do, but it is way too far from the bathroom.

Why choose the middle seat? Save money, gain two new friends.

Please pray for Ukraine.

Thank you for joining me.

I’m so glad you’re here,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Look Beyond Yourself…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #40 – HAPPY EASTER!

Yesterday at Holy Saturday mass, Monsignor spoke to the newly baptized and confirmed and urged them to Look Beyond. Look beyond the bread they eat and the wine they drink. Look beyond themselves and toward God.

Growing up in New Mexico surrounded by long vistas gave me a powerful perspective on what lies beyond my own reflection. Mountains stood majestically, and the 360-degree view of beautiful, unrestricted space was like knowing a pinky swear secret about how things are so much bigger and grander than us.

When I moved to Washington, DC, my environmental views narrowed, and I could only see what was right in front of me. Fellow staffers, government buildings, and marble floors dominated the space. However, when I peered over the desk, struck up a conversation with the person next to me on the metro, and took in all the history around me as I ran through the city, I developed a new, internal long view of life. In DC, the beauty of the city lies in the people- the diversity in languages, culture, food, religion, and perspectives.

Naturally, neither view was better than the other; both inspired me to see the potential positive mark I can make on the world.

What I learned:

Now that Lent has come to a close, it is the perfect time to move beyond any confines you have and open your eyes to the vista ahead. Avert your gaze from the monotony and look around you; tell the old woman at the ice cream shop that you love her dress, get up early to see the sunrise, and marvel at the moon.

Sometimes, it’s easy to find your vision by simply looking up… seek the light and move toward it. I’ve heard that if you capture bees in the bottom of a lidless Mason jar, they will find themselves trapped, bumping into the walls because they don’t look up to find the light that will lead them to freedom. I pray we all discover our perfect vistas, filled with light that helps us look beyond…

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

The blank page…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections #31: 40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

Tonight is one of those nights when I stare at a blank page. No clue what to write. Guess I should have planned rather than gone organic. Let’s see…

Yesterday, I watched a woodpecker balance upside down in a very acrobatic foraging pose, using its tail feathers like a tripod and clinging effortlessly to peck the heck out of the nuts and seeds we had out. I mean, even this guy went in with a plan, and I’m sitting here with a blank page!

I arrived at the airport this early morning, thankfully with lots of time before my flight, as security was packed. I felt like I won the lottery when my bag did not get flagged, and I could lace up my shoes and head to gate A19.

As I settled in my aisle seat, my window neighbor had arrived. He was an elderly gentleman with only his Sudoku book and a pencil capped with a red eraser marking his last page.

“Sudoku will pass the time”, he said.

He had zero electronic devices to set on airplane mode, no earphones taken from the flight attendant to plug in and watch whatever Delta is offering on the screens dotting the seatbacks. Instead, he stared out the window like we used to, watching luggage load and busy workers shuffle around the tarmac.

We had the loveliest conversation. Turns out he’s a motorhome guy with fascinating stories. Which I will share…soon!

I arrived at my childhood home to help take care of my parents. Mom recognized me (thank you Jesus), and Dad asked if the flight was full as he had my last 1,583 flights prior. Ahhhh…normalcy.

Now, my blank page is full, and so is my heart. More tomorrow.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Empty nest, empty yard

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Hanging onto the memories

Lenten Reflections #4 – Raw recollections during the Lenten Season

While weeding in the yard today I walked over to our kid-size picnic table, purchased at a yard sale years ago. We had just moved from DC to Georgia and the little gem was the perfect addition to our new yard. Blue paint on the table peeked through the two layers of a glossy red shade we used to cover it over the years. It sat there tired as an old oak tree – enduring, yet vulnerable to heat and the many visitors who had rested on its wood. It needed some love, so plank by plank, I scraped off the old paint and tightened all of the rusty screws. I thought back to the sunny lunches at the table with the kids, the obstacle courses they’d create jumping over the table to the finish line. Easter eggs were found tucked in a bottom corner, our dogs slept in its shade, and freshly carved pumpkins perched on it every Halloween. Our own version of the Giving Tree. I brushed it off, convincing myself I’d get back to its restoration sooner than later. It held a zillion memories and I felt like just maybe I could preserve them with some sandpaper and more paint.

The sun was setting so we took the dogs for a walk. On the way, we stopped to visit with a few neighbors who were out piddling in their yards. Around the corner was “the big candy house” duly named because the sweet couple always gave the kids full-size candy bars on Halloween. We chatted with the dad about a few trees he had to have taken down. “They were childhood trees,” he said. The kids even named one Blossom, it stood right there. He swept his arm toward an empty spot in the yard as if he were painting a quick replica of Blossom in his mind. He continued, “But, we had to take it down, then came the basketball hoop. It was sad, but, it was time.” He stood a little taller, “Well, we’re all getting older, so it’s okay. It’s what happens”. On the way home we saw one of our dearest friends who jokingly asked us if we wanted the truck in her driveway. She just wanted to get rid of it but her husband has an emotional attachment to it…and all his boys’ baseball gear filling the garage. It all sounded so familiar. The lessening was all around us.

What I learned:

I’ve always pondered the kids’ memorabilia within the four walls of our home, the old uniforms, the artwork, and the trophies. Then that darn picnic table stirred up my emotions, followed by Blossom the tree, and the truck. Nostalgia is triggering. But time scoots off like a chuckling cheetah and we have a choice – to sink into the quicksand of loss or relish the memories, plant new trees, and repaint that cute picnic table.

Please pray for the Pope and thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

A Fine Balance

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#39 Lenten Reflections

Our kids played a game named Alligator Swamp around the house where they tossed pillows (lily pads) one by one in front of one another as they stepped on them making a trail of safety for themselves. They had to keep one foot on the lily pad before they stepped on the next and would coach each other to be careful not to fall into the dark marsh of chomping alligators. If they toppled into the swamp they lost one of the lily pads and the trek was harder. They would play this all over the house as a team, helping each other stay balanced and buoyant. 

Sounds crazy, but I thought of this while in church, mesmerized by the Stations of the Cross. Jesus falling, getting up, taking more steps forward. Someone stops to wipe his face, give him water, help him carry the load, and stay sure-footed. Of course, unlike in the Alligator Swamp game, there is unrelenting humiliation, pressure, and exaltation, yet Jesus finds grace and calm through all of it. Classic Jesus. He prays, He forgives, He loves. 

My mom always says Good Friday is the one day we attend “services”, not “Mass”. Because today there are no miracles of water turning into wine, or blind finding their sight. There are no sermons or parables, no abundance of loathes and fishes. 

This weekend, reflect on all the hardships and loneliness you are experiencing. Know that deep in your soul, a rock will be pushed aside and reveal the strength you need to persevere and rise again.

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Gifts from my sisters…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#19 Lenten Reflections

Mom and Dad have always referred to us, their daughters as, “The Girls”. Since I live the furthest from my dear parents I don’t get the daily dose of them, but thanks to my sisters, I get the gifts of stories and photos.

Here’s a sampling:

Every night around 7:00 pm EST I get a text from one of my sisters that says:

✅ Meds Done!

That means Mom has been called and has taken her medicine. My oldest sister usually calls Alexa with the camera where you can see/spy on the goings-on in the kitchen and will talk Mom through it. Thanks to my super caretaker sister, we have a perfectly designed medicine chart and color-coded dots on all the bottles to make it easier. When I call to help her, Mom will say jokingly, “Are you just going to watch us all day from that thing?”

Sometimes one of us will call the landline during “Meds for Mom” and Dad will answer hastily, so excited to connect everyone on the devices. “Hey! We’ve got Lucretia on the Alexa, say hi!” We all say hello in our sing-songy voices and then one of us says we’ll call back.

On Thursdays, I get a picture of a bountiful bunch of fruits and vegetables from the “Food Pharmacy” a program where local farms and my parent’s hospital arrange delivery of in-season produce for Senior Citizens. Something to look forward to and a healthy addition to their meals.

On Mondays, I get a report of how the Pilates class went for Mom. My sister tells us whether the cool teacher, Richard, was there or if the substitute, “lady” ran the class. The “lady” (as mom calls her) is not great or, in other words, she’s not Richard.

Note: I’ve learned change isn’t great for anyone over 75. This is why they still make agitators in washing machines, regular Coca-Cola, and ironing boards. Therefore, when a newbie tries to win the hearts of senior citizens who simply want to stretch their bodies and maybe throw in a plank or two, she better connect with them quickly. (Maybe she could talk about her love for clotheslines).

After Pilates, I get a picture like this from the Casino where Mom and Dad have breakfast with the “gang”, enjoy their free coffee, and then disperse throughout the casino to play their games of choice.

Here are Dad’s tips to make the most of their casino time: 1) Play only nickel slots 2) Each person starts with $10 3) Everyone takes turns and is supportive 4) If your $10 is dwindling, keep trying new machines with the remaining money 5) Leave immediately if you are winning big OR have spent the allotted allowance.

Finally, my favorite photos are when I see Mom and Dad doing the things they love like working outside or making chili…just like the good old days.

I’m so lucky to have “The Girls” and Mom and Dad and blessed with updates and glimpses into their day.

Thanks for joining me…I pray you and yours are connecting as often as makes you happy,

❤️Lucretia