An Ocean Apart

In December?

Ever since I was a small girl the allure of across the pond has fascinated me. Visiting for an extended period of time was on top of my bucket list. Many times a trip had been planned and then fallen through, crushing my hopes that maybe this time everything would work out. But even despite these slaughtered hopes, I never gave up and now, finally, my perseverance has paid off.

My senior year of high school my aunt had thrown out the chance to take a trip to London that summer. I’d jumped at the idea, all ready to elaborately plan our trip. But, of course, due to unforeseen circumstances, it had to be postponed to the December of my first year of college. The only comfort I processed was that it hadn’t been completely terminated. I clung to the face like a lifeline as I started college and begun to live life on my own.

The day the calendar switched from November to December without a cancellation and everything was in place for us to leave on the fifth, I almost couldn’t believe it. I was half convinced this was some cruel dream my conscious had brought up to torment me. But when my aunt was standing in the middle of my apartment going through the details of our flight, it hit me like a brick wall. I was leaving America, the only country I’d been in for more than a week’s time, and flying across the Atlantic Ocean to live in Britain. After all these years of hoping and praying, God had seen fit to answer my pleas.

The drive from my apartment to the San Diego Airport seemed like a blur of black pavement and the bright colors of a sun rising upon the ocean. Life had taken on a dream-like state. Conversations I was hard pressed to remember a few minutes after they had occurred. A few times my aunt had to ask if I was paying attention as she went over the details of our stay that I could have told her with half my brain disfunctioning.

The blur of words, event and sounds continued through airport security, standing in line for a Starbucks breakfast and attempting to control my impatience waiting for our international flight to board. Only when I set foot inside the plane did the film peel off my vision. Things began to take clarity once again. Everything became real once more.

“I hate flying,” my aunt whispered in my ear frantically as the plane began to back away from the gate.

My blue eyes widened in alarm, “And you waited to tell me this now?” For the life of me I couldn’t understand why the people who like to travel had a deathly fear of getting up in the air.

“I forgot to mention it!” Her breath grew shallower with each passing second.

“You forgot,” my tone flattened along with my expression, “How do you forget to mention you have a fear of plans when you’re flying nine hours with someone?”

“You just do!” she practically shouted. I could see hyperventilation in her near future.

Putting my hand gently in her arm, I made an attempt to sooth her, “Calm down, everything’s gonna be fine.” Her actions were becoming distracting, causing people to glance our way.

“Okay, okay,” her deep breaths were starting to sound more like the beginning of sobs rather than anything relaxing, “I can do this.”

I dug quickly through my purse under the seat for my iPod. Untangling the black headphones, I thrust the device into her hands, “Here, listen to music. It’ll help.”

Just as she pushed the buds in her ears the plane began to gather speed for take off. I prayed the distraction of trying to turn on the iTouch would preoccupy her enough to keep her from noticing. But, of course, my prayers were in vain. The only thing the device did was add frustration into her mix of emotions, her fingers pushing every which button.

I lay my head back against my seat and closed my eyes. No matter what complications I might endure, I knew this trip would be worth it. A chance to live in England was an experience I’d waited for, for too long to let it be ruined by something small. This trip had the possibility to be life changing. I didn’t know who I’d be when I set foot in the states again. But I was ready to be her, whoever she was and the situations that shaped her.