After finishing my post about my trip to New Orleans I really felt like there was a little bit more of the story to tell, so here goes. I had a two hour lay over in Las Vegas before I got to head home. When I landed I saw that my flight was delayed by 20 minutes. I made my way through the terminal to the gate that it was scheduled to depart from. I sat and charged my phone, killed time on facebook and refilled my water bottle. I still had an hour before the flight was set to depart so I walked back a bit to get coffee then went straight back to the original gate. But the sign said Phoenix, not San Jose. I was redirected to yet another gate, one that I just walked by, twice. I looked at the clock and it was 20 minutes before the time that it was to leave so I sat down. I looked around and noticed that there was no one else around and thought nothing of it. I then noticed that the plane was at the end of the jetway and breathed a sigh of relief that at least it was there. Then I sat and did nothing for a few minutes. While I sat doing nothing I overheard the gate agent ask a woman who was about to walk down the jetway if San Jose was her final destination. Then I had the thought, all the people were on the plane, I should be on the plane. I walked up and asked if this was the flight to San Jose. The man looked at my ticket and told me that they had been paging me for a while. I didn’t even notice that they were paging people, more or less people with my name, but they had been. I quickly found a seat between two people that weren’t giving me the evil death stare and we were off. As the plane ascended it hit me, all of it. I could have missed the flight, how could I miss a flight? I’m miss pay attention to details, getting on an airplane is a big detail to miss. Then it occurred to me, I’m tired, really really tired, of coarse I didn’t hear or notice what was going on, I was exhausted. Then I sobbed. I was overcome with the emotions of the weekend as well as the past few years. Hearing people’s hard stories, the reminder of the pain that had filled my heart not long ago. There was also the joy of being in the presence of those that I love so much. The excitement of the researches talking with such enthusiasm, I could here them in my head saying “not if but when” and “my promise to you is that it will be done fast”. It all swirled around in my head as I sat and cried my eyes out for 40 minutes. I had no tissues, my tears just rolled down my chin and soaked my shirt. Eventually I composed myself, closed my eyes and tried to rest. I thought about how I joke that I am not bi-polar but my life is. I often go in crazy fast cycles of laughing and crying but only because Claire stops breathing and scares me and then her sister does something wonderful like singing a sweet song, helping her doll with the oxygen mask or standing on her head. But up in an airplane, I had no circumstances like that to throw me around, just my thoughts. That is when it hit me, Step 7, acceptance. I was peaceful, aware of all the crazy that fills my life but in that moment it occurred to me there is no changing it and that it will, indeed be alright. I am sure that this was an easier conclusion to reach with the fresh reminder of all of the love and support that I got from being with my rett family. Additionally, I had spent hours that day looking out the window, down at creation, for me it was a very strong reminder of my creator and how much He loves me. I remembered that even within the big mess there is beauty and in that airplane I took a breathe deeper than I have in a long time. I think I normally sigh as I go through the relentless grieving process that is my life. Perhaps it is because I have only been going through steps 1-6 over and over. This whole concept of acceptance is a bit of an odd thing, I still get twings that I should be more upset about things, then I somehow am able to take a deep breathe and smile. It’s been a bit since that moment in the airplane. A lot of life has happened since then. Claire’s had more seizures and longer harder bouts of the dystonic/rett craziness in fun places like the car while I am driving and the ice cream parlor. I wish I could describe it better but it is just a little different and by different I really mean good. I had heard people say that with rett syndrome it does get easier with time and I could never wrap my head around that. I think that they meant that they were pushed harder than they ever could have imagined and eventually it made a bit more sense. I know that I haven’t completely arrived, I still feel crazy, exhausted and go through the grief cycle several times a day. It just more feels like the wind is to my back than in my face, even if it is still making it hard to stand.