We were supposed to depart Jax for our new home in Costa
Rica today. Our house was under contract, our new hookup to city water was
complete replacing the well water which we had used for the ten years we owned
and lived in our home in the Jacksonville suburbs. Our animals had their papers
in order to “immigrate” to Costa Rica, we had sold most of our possessions on
various web and social network sites and what was not sold—our treasures and
heirlooms, artwork, pictures, our baby grand—were stashed into a tiny 5x7 foot storage
locker. It was sort of a lifeline which we could use if things did nor go as
planned and we needed to return to the States and bail on our plan to retire in
Central America.
The phrase “supposed to” serves as a premonition that things
did not go exactly as planned. We had planned well and checked off all our
to-do items. Many times, had we rehearsed in our minds what was to happen on
that day of departure.
Our flight was to depart at 6:00 am. on American Airlines
out of Jacksonville International Airport. Lana our sweet Russian neighbor had
been so helpful in so many ways volunteered (insisted) on taking us to the
airport at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am. But her Lexus was not large enough to
handle our baggage and the large dog kennel for Daphne our black Lab. We had
eleven oversized pieces of luggage which we planned to check on the flight and
pay the excess baggage fees. It was the day before when we discovered that even
though our items would probably fit on the plane they wouldn’t fit in a Lexus
SUV. In hindsight we should probably have researched this ahead of time but it
wasn’t like we had a lot of time available for such things.
As luck would have it, our daughter and son-in-law, Emily
and Dru, offered to drive us—well, Dru offered—then he came up with the idea of
loaning us his crew-cab pickup truck which would easily fit a dog and
her kennel, two cats, and eleven pieces of luggage—and us. A wonderful solution
to an unforeseen, last-minute problem.
Our last night at home was a miserable night full of last-minute
packing and sorting and ditching personal items and long-lost treasures. At
2:00 am we hadn’t gotten a single minute of sleep and we were hours away from
finishing the final sort and tossing of personal effects. We each took time for
a last shower at the old homestead and then it was 3:00 am! Scrambling to get
it together, we raced through the house time and again looking into corners
that hadn’t been cleared out yet. Still not yet finished, we gathered up the
animals, loaded the borrowed truck, and started to the airport knowing that we would
not make the four o’clock, two-hour check-in deadline for international flights,
but willing to faithfully make the effort. We already felt as if we had been
traveling for days.
Arriving at the ticket counter we were told that the airline
approved kennel we had purchased from PetSmart was one inch too tall for
the airplane that we were to take to Dallas and beyond! Two hours later we were
sent home with a reservation for the next day—pending our obtaining a new
kennel that fit the door opening on an American Airlines 737.
It is about here we should talk about the plan Dru had for
getting his truck back from us after we had left JAX for Dallas and San Jose,
CR. We were to park the truck in the terminal parking lot closest to the terminal and lock the key inside. As I was doing this, I mused to myself—gee
I hope we get on this flight.
It was five-thirty in the morning when I called Dru from the
airport. Knowing he wasn’t, I said—Sorry to call at this hour, I hope you
were awake.
The rest of this day and half of tomorrow were spent
finishing the chores we left undone at 3:30 this morning and returning to
PetSmart to buy a smaller-large dog kennel. The big one we donated to a friend for
use as an animal rescue transport. As I dropped the kennel off at her house, I
thought to myself—that was a huge kennel. What kind of airplane would
accommodate such a palace?
