Travel delays reveal wells of inner strength and character

Dear Readers, This year, I was super blessed to have my son visit me in Europe, and I believe we made memories that will last a lifetime. We watched a ton of movies, finished a couple of books, admired spectacular lights and assembled the neatest puzzle. Yet our most unexpected memory came courtesy of an airline debacle.

My sweet 17-year-old baby boy got stranded in Dublin for a night all by himself. After delayed flights, partner airlines pointing fingers at each other while collectively pointing at the third-party booking agent, he found himself without a boarding pass, sleep-deprived and starving. The good people of Ireland eventually made it right by rebooking him on new flights, putting him up in a swanky hotel, providing him with com- plimentary meals, smart TV and a fluffy bathrobe, but not before testing every fiber of his adolescent patience.

Some moms might gasp at the thought of their kid navigating this alone, while others might nod in solidarity, and I was a little of both. I’m so dang proud of him for not completely losing it. He remembered to breathe, stay calm and maintain his cool with the airport staff, even while surrounded by the “cheery” holiday travelers that we all know “shine” their best at airports this time of year. We reframed it as a bonus day for the lad to sneak in a wee bit o’ Ireland — something I have never personally experienced.

Travel can be messy and, as much as we try to avoid them, stressful hiccups are simply part of it. They remind us that it isn’t just our destination that teaches us a thing or two. It’s the whole dadgum journey that crafts our curriculum.

I’ve also been rerouted, stranded, lost on the wrong bus, trapped on a bridge to New Jersey when I was aiming for Manhattan or Philly. Each time, I’ve encountered new people, stories and experiences that I would’ve missed had everything gone as planned, and there’s beauty in those ugly travel parts: The unexpected, the detours, the deepest impressions.

Even if my teen had broken down or panicked, that would’ve been okay. Sometimes, we do fall apart when things don’t make sense and are clearly unfair. It’s okay to feel our feelings, but we collect ourselves, regroup and keep moving forward. We find new ways to get “there,” wherever “there” may be.

Turning the page on this calendar year, it’s natural to reflect on our past and set new intentions, and I’m big on resolutions. I write them down, speak them into existence, even say them out loud to my own living room walls. This year, I wanted to empty more ink pens as a measure for writing more and sought to rack up a higher number of rejections. I’ve always believed that when you reach for the stars, you might not grab one, but you won’t come up with a handful of mud either. Now I have this mason jar on my shelf, filled with used-up pens, and gosh, I got told “no” a heck of a lot this year!

As I reflect on my son’s “luck” of the Irish and my own travel misadventures, I appreciate how much we all rely on one another. I’ve benefited greatly from the kindness of strangers, and I’ve learned some of the meanest lessons from those who know me best. So, let me ask: Would you offer food, water or comfort to a weary traveler? Wouldn’t you hope for the same along your journey? The simple truth is that we’re all just trying to get “there” together. Aren’t we?

Happy New Year, Readers. May we all get where we’re going in 2025 — or at least a wee bit closer. Oh, and let’s try to be a little nicer at the airport, too.

XOXO,

Kelly Stone is an educator, comedian, mother, and author who loves the heck outta the river. She welcomes e-letters at kellystone.org or kellystonecomedy@ gmail.com and adores handwritten notes and postcards via good ol’ snail mail: R das Combatentes da Grande Guerra 47, FRAC R, Aveiro, Portugal 3810-087.