case of the crazies -an interlude

well, i'm not sure how this fits into my travel blog, but for all you momma's out there you might be able to relate... oh and just to warn - some might call it a bit morbid, others might just call me one crazy esa.
so if you're leaving your kids for the first time- like really leaving- on an airplane to another country leaving- it can be a bit intense. and to add to my intesity, my mother in law was all up in my grill to get an updated living will worked up... nothing like makin a will before a big trip to get you all psyched out about death...
so after answering painful questions like who you gonna leave all your cd's too, to who's the luckies who get your kids when you kick it -i decided i might as well go there.
yeah, there.
after i was pretty sure my kids were going to be allright without us, and i wouldn't go crazy missing them (crazy is def subjective), i decided that i needed to start exploring the fact that i could die in a plane crash.


ok, bear with me. i know the statistics - i've a better chance of crashing my car in the scolari's parking lot than dying an airplane crash. yet, i just couldn't shake it. about a week before d day, i started having thoughts like...
"well, i guess this is the last time i'll see christmas lights... aren't they something!"
or
"this is the last hike i'll go on in MDO, oh how i'll miss it."
or (the day before we left)
"just think, that person will say, 'she can't be dead, i just saw her at trader joe's yesterday!'"
or
"i'll never smell ozzy's curious scent of burts bees shampoo and maple syrup again."
and the worst
"its crazy to think that my kids will likely not have one memory of me"

i know, i'm one sick puppy, but seriously i just went there- i couldn't help it.

needless to say, i survived the plane. yet everytime it even slightly shook i woke abruptly ready to turn to b and say, "well, i guess this is it, i can't believe its gonna end like this. i love you." then searing images of oceanic flight 815 came crashing through my brain.



then we land.



selah.



then we have to leave...
and it all comes tumbling back. yet this time, i think- if i would've known i was going to die i wouldn't have spent my last 5 days in oaxaca...
in any event i weesled, manipulated and begged b to drive us back from SFO at 11 pm tuesday night. he conceeded, barely.
i even managed to stay awake till paso, pretty much a record for me.
all i can say is when we walked in our door that night, and slid into our bed, all that escaped from my lips was, "thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..."
cause i knew that in exactly 4 hours i would have in my arms, everyone that ever mattered, everyone that brings me out of bed each morning, everyone that makes me weep, that makes me love recklessley, and everyone that can bring unadultered joy this side of heaven.
so naturally, i had only one person to thank.
jesus.

selah.