I am not ready at all to board a plane today, even though I’ve known about this date since I bought the tickets in August. I counted down the months until they were weeks, then days. My chest tightens up when I think that in a day I will be back where I was born.
I haven’t been home since December 2003 and I have missed it very much since then. That sentence is hard for me to process sometimes. It’s heavy and weighs on me, especially when it’s cold and rainy here or when I’m talking to my sister on the phone for the umpteenth time that day and think, this would be so much better in person.
I am going to miss Nathan and Mike. This is the longest I’ve been away from my firstborn. The two of them have a lot of activities on the calendar, each day ready to be marked off until we return. They will go to Denny’s on Tuesdays and Thursdays when kids eat free and to the kids play area at the mall where Mike can sit next to a hot single mom and say, “Things have just been so rough since Nathan’s mom left us.”
I have been fretting and fretting and what I need to be doing is celebrating. I’m so excited, my heart is going to tear through my ribcage. I’m going to see my family! I’m going to perform comedy in a room full of friends and family and people who are there to have a good time.
My sister said, “You had better be nice to the flight attendant. What if you go to sleep and wake up and he’s not there like that Jodie Foster movie!?”
“Yes, I’m worried that if I don’t say hi to the flight attendant, he’s going to kidnap TJ and make me believe that I didn’t have a son at all? Well that wouldn’t happen. I would be happy to have my own seat!”
I can do this. I am a strong Chamorro woman who can manage her almost two-year-old on her lap during an international flight. I am going to drink 10 raw eggs out of a tall glass. I’m going to put on my sweatpants and run up the Philadelphia steps and thrust my fists at the sky and yell, “MO-NA! MO-NA! MO-NA!” Then I’ll be tasered by the police for refusing to leave. I hope they leave that part out of the movie version of my life.