Our oldest daughter, Jo, has taken a position with AmeriCorps in Austin, Texas, where she has been living since the end of October. She's been away before, not the least of which washer four years of college, as well as missions trips to Kenya, Uganda and Cambodia. But this times it's different. She is on her own. She has changed over her driver's license; She has her own address; We can't claim her on our taxes. So my wife and I were very happy when she told us she'd still be able to come home for Christmas.
Her plane arrived at Boston's Logan Airport late on Friday night. I left our house in western Maine at 8:00 PM in order to pick her up. I wasn't even on the interstate yet when she called my cell phone to tell me her plane's departure was delayed. Instead of the 11:10 arrival time, it would be closer to midnight. No problem. I had my I-pod set to play a random mix of my five Melanie albums, including her Christmas CD "Antlers". I had an extra large cup of coffee. I was ready to go.
I arrived at Logan at about 10:30 PM, so I had plenty of time to kill. The shops were all closed except for Dunkin Donuts, and I'd had plenty of coffee at this point. So I sat down, and, before I knew it, was sleeping in the waiting area. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised; I had been up since 5:30 that morning and already worked a full day.
I woke up shortly after midnight, and the arrivals board had her plane listed as arriving at 12:29. Now I was ready for more coffee, so I visited Dunkin after all. Jo's plane arrived right on time - at least right on the second rescheduled time - and we headed home.
No one makes me laugh more than Jona-Lynn. The ride back to Maine was wonderful. She told me about the little Mexican kids next door who come over to play in her apartment. They told her and her roommate, "Obama is going to bring us to the White House and give us our papers for Christmas." She told me about the pack of semi-wild Chihuahuas that run loose in their neighborhood and chase her roommate's bicycle. She told me about visiting the LBJ library, and the state capital. She told me about Anthony, a homosexual atheist co-worker who has become one of her closest friends, and who loves to listen to her talk about her faith in God. There is nothing pretentious or judgmental about our girl, and we've seen over and over again how her passion for Jesus attracts people who have been hurt by religion and religious people, so this seemingly unlikely friendship really comes as no surprise.
We arrived back at our home in Bridgton, Maine at 3:30 AM. Except for my nap in Logan, I had been up 22 hours. Bed had never felt so good. And now we wait for Tuesday evening when our 20 year old, Naomi, arrives home, too.
Merry Christmas!