I was supposed to go to South Carolina yesterday, for work. I was looking forward only to having a few hours with which to contemplate my simmering thoughts, but otherwise would've preferred to stay home.
I arrived at Tampa airport on time, made it through security without a hitch, only to get a call (while standing in line for coffee) from work that my flight out was delayed for an hour. Fortunately, Tampa has smoking lounges (I'm aware that it's a filthy habit), and I decided to make the most of my extra hour by playing my favorite game, "People Watching."
My extra hour wait went by and I made a couple sketches of people and, because I wasn't at all happy with the results, put my sketch book away and started contemplating life and what I want to accomplish with this next year of my life (side note: it doesn't matter how old I get, I still think of a year by the school year -- starting in September and ending in June). Noticing the time, I put my journal away and started making preparations for boarding my flight. All of a sudden I felt my backpack vibrating which could only mean that my phone was ringing. I grabbed my phone and answered yet another call from work, "don't get on that plane. The Monkey broke his collar bone."
Freaked out, panicked, frazzled, helpless... All of these emotions flooded over me quickly and furiously. Sure, a broken clavicle isn't life threatening, but my baby was HURT. ANd not just in a skinned knee way, but in a BIG way.
Long story short, and with a HUGE thanks due to The Best Friend ®and The Boyfriend™, The Monkey is fine-ish. He has a broken collar bone and has to spend the next six weeks in a sling, but it could've been worse and fortunately it wasn't.
After my adrenaline rush wore off, I was able to fully appreciate the minor miracle that I experienced. I'm one of those rare Delta passengers that never complains of tardy flights. In fact, my flights with Delta are usually EARLY. There was no inclement weather delaying this flight and no other immediately apparent cause. It was just late. What would otherwise be an annoyance proved a moment of pure synchronicity. If my flight had been on time, I wouldn't have been able to be there for my son. I would've only found out about his collarbone during my layover in Atlanta, and then it would've taken a helluva lot more to get me home.
There are other moments, some bigger, some smaller than this one, that reinstil my belief in synchronicity. My relationships with The Best Friend® and The Boyfriend™ being two good examples. But moments like this never cease to amaze me and fill me with both gratitude and awe. My life can be anything I want it to be, if I'm open and receptive to the signs.