During Jake's Christmas university break, an ice storm hits our area, and we start losing water and power in our home. This carries on for days and the weather forecast provides no news of relief. We have a family vacation planned, but instead of leaving together on Christmas Day, Brian remains behind to take care of the house. He is afraid the pipes could freeze and then burst, and we are no closer to knowing when our electricity and power will resume. Nick, Jake, Nick's girlfriend, Myles, and I leave for a week in Huatulco, Mexico. Brian hopes to join us in a few days, if it's possible. I hope he will make it. I feel outnumbered by these three young adults, and Nick and I now feel like strangers since his recent outburst.
Very soon after we've landed and settled into the condo rental, I begin to feel tension around Jake. I also start to notice how closely he is tied to his computer and social media, as well as online video games. He resists spending time with us on the beach or in other activities. He stays up until early hours of the morning to play interactive games and communicate with his many online friends, and sleeps late into the day. I notice that his personal grooming is sliding and he's much more irritable with me. He is pushing the envelope of independence, and I assume this is a normal part of early adulthood. I don't like it. I decide to tolerate it, but only as long as Jake is not rude or disrespectful. At this point he is just being stubborn. He points out that he didn't ask to go on a vacation, that it was Nick's idea to get away over the Christmas break. He also reminds me that he doesn't like sitting out in the sun, and a beach holiday would never be his choice. I know this is true. Jake has always preferred winter to summer. He has very delicate skin and has suffered some painful burns, in the past. It is unfortunate that Brian, who needs a break, is remaining home, while Jake, who doesn't appreciate the trip, has been made to tag along. The situation with the ice storm back home has still not improved, and sadly, Brian misses the vacation with us. Jake's attitude doesn't destroy our holiday, and he does participate in some of the activities; he and Nick bond over video games and talk of Anime and other things they both love. There are moments of joy and laughter, but I still feel frustrated with Jake's attitude. Nick is actually behaving more amicably than I had anticipated, but there is still an underlying strain. Thankfully, I am fortunate enough to have some fun female company in Myles. And I can say that for the most part, it's a good trip and feels fantastic to be in a warmer climate.
We pack up and leave the condo on New Year's Day, and get a taxi to the airport. We have a really long wait to get through the check-in line at the airport, and when it is at last our turn, we are told that there is an issue with the flight. We will now have to wait for a confirmation on seating, and are given standby passes. This is not a good sign, there is not another flight for a full week, and we all start to ponder the idea of being stranded. We eventually work our way through the security check, and are off to our gate to wait. There are many passengers at this small tropical gate's holding area, and it's suffocatingly humid. We have to stand while waiting. Passengers are eventually called to board, but we are still not presented with confirmed seats on the plane. I am starting to feel panicked. I know that flights can be oversold and we can get bumped; this has happened to me before with flying. I find an airline employee to inquire about the flight load and am told to wait a little longer and that the situation is being sorted out. The more time that passes, the less assured I feel that we will get on. My sixth sense is telling me that this may not have a good outcome.
We eventually learn that there are only five seats remaining. There is a family of four and a single man waiting with us. We avoid making eye contact with the others; we've done the math; there are nine of us and only five available seats. And when I hear that the others are called to board the plane, I realize that all hope of flying home on that flight is lost to us. My heart sinks, I feel sick and my heart begins to race. This is a nightmare. I am responsible for getting the four of us home, and I have no idea how to fix this. We return to the airport check-in area and start to ask the airline reps questions. How will we return home? Are there other flights available on other airlines? Are there seats available with other charters? The terminal representatives are all so kind and helpful, and one man in particular takes pity on us, working very hard to come up with a plan. Every inquiry comes up empty; each flight is already full. Nick gets an internet connection on his cell phone and contacts Brian back at home to let him know what's happening, and to see if he has any suggestions. Brian sets to looking up flights online for us. We have several people working to find a solution now, but I cannot relax. Everything is a dead end. We are ultimately told that our best chance of returning to Toronto would be to go back to our hotel and then return to the airport the next day. We have a slim chance of getting a flight all together, on standby, but more likely we could get out of Huatulco one at a time over the next few days. This is madness; at that rate it could take up to a week before we're all home. My panic grows into alarm, and I relinquish all control of my emotions, bursting into shameful tears. I have lost control of the situation and have no answers, no solution. I have failed Nick, Jake and Myles.
Nick comes to comfort me; he remains calm, but he also feels a much bigger urgency to get home. He has his part-time job to return to, as well as school. This is his last year at university and in a few days he begins his final semester. He doesn't want to be stranded for another week. He is determined to somehow make this work. He becomes the strength for our little group and he continues to look for solutions with his dad, over the Internet. We then learn from my husband that if we can get out of Huatulco and get to Mexico City, then we will have no trouble finding flights to Toronto from there. We begin asking the airport representative about flights to Mexico City, but this comes up empty, as well. I feel imprisoned and hopeless. Nick asks me if it's possible to rent a car and drive to Mexico City. He suggests that he and I could take turns driving. To rent a car and drive, one must be at least twenty-five years old. Nick is only twenty-two, so if we drive it would be on my shoulders. I'm not certain that I want to take on the task of driving in a strange place and at night. Nick insists that it won't matter, that it's Mexico, they won't care. He wants to help; he wants to drive. But I think it's a bad idea. I say no.
More time passes and all flights have left the airport en route to their destinations; we now realize there is absolutely no chance of getting out of Huatulco tonight, or possibly for the next week. Nick is still insistent on the driving plan. I am desperate to get us home and consider this option, and I calculate what it would entail to make this work. The flight from Huatulco to Mexico City takes just one hour. I determine how long that might take to drive. I have flown to Montreal from Toronto and it is a one-hour flight; I have also driven from Toronto to Montreal and it is a five-hour journey. It is evening and if all goes well, we could arrive sometime after midnight, and then check into an airport hotel until morning. Logistically, it seems do-able. I finally relent, but tell Nick that only I will do the driving; I'm not prepared to have my son drive illegally, possibly get caught and find himself in a criminal predicament in Mexico; that could be very dangerous and scary.
We speak with the kind gentleman who had been trying to get us a flight, and he goes in search of a rental vehicle for us. We are both surprised and delighted that he has remained well past his work shift to try to assist us in any way that he can. He is like an earth angel and we are grateful for his compassion and kindness. We heard so many stories before leaving on this trip about how threatening and corrupt the people of Mexico can be, but we experience the exact opposite with this man. It takes another hour and a rental car has been found for us. We are told that it is the last remaining car in the rental lot. I take this as a good sign and start to feel a sense of relief.
I fill out the required paperwork, and concede to pay an excessive $500 for the car, agreeing to drop off the vehicle at the Mexico City airport before 10:00 a.m. the next day. I believe this will be easy given my calculations on the distance that we will travel. Nick is still insisting that he will take on some of the driving, but his intentions are revised rather quickly when I am handed the keys to the car and told that it is a standard transmission vehicle. Nick has only learned to drive an automatic. So, it is settled; I will do all of the driving. The responsibility of navigating myself and these three young adults is now mine. I cannot fear this journey. I have made a commitment and I have to follow through. They are counting on me, and I must put any trepidation behind me, and act as though I am thoroughly confident in my ability to manage this. But the truth is that I am scared to death. I can't think about what could happen, I can't think about my apprehensions. I tell myself that I can do this. Nick, Jake, and Myles are behind me and encouraging me, saying that it's a good plan. At 7:45 p.m. I send a quick text home to Brian, telling him the plan, and then turn off my phone before he tries to talk me out of it. I get behind the wheel of the car, take a deep breath, and set my mind on autopilot. I am now strong; I am now fiercely determined. We will get to Mexico City in the next five or six hours. I can do this.
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Seeing Through the Cracks
Non-FictionEveryone knows the rules of growing up. Once you're eighteen things become clearer, childhood problems melt away, and you're ready to go out and conquer the world. You're now an adult. You can look your parents in the eye as equals. Officially, you'...