It was back in the days when, we hadn’t, yet experienced shoe bombers, liquid bottles filled with explosive devices, or the kid of metal detectors we were used to viewing on SCI-FI TV, (which actually could send X-Rays inside our clothing) to see if we had something dangerous, or nefarious. They were not the good old days, because if we are honest, any day can be good, and the very next day might or may bring danger, delusion or delight. But back before the FRIGHT of the Boggy Man lurking at the airport, or actually purchasing a seat, with knife cutters and any other harmful and murderous items or intentions; ONE could actually walk their family or friends to the gate at the airport, kiss and hug, wave goodbye and watch as the plane finally ascended in the skies above. I was living in Houston, taking turns visiting my kids in Pittsburgh or having them come down south. It had been 10 days of bliss, sharing time with my kids, and we all saw how wonderful a Jewish community could be, and my being Gay mattered very little.
The goodbyes were always the worst part of the trip, and even as I write this, the lump in my throat is so huge, I am having a hard time inhaling, and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Not to be trite, but in actuality, “…it was the best of times and the worst of times…” My little girl, my baby, (even when she turns 100, she will be my baby), wanted two packs of gum to take on the plane, to help her when the pressure of the flight made her head seem ready to burst. Her big brother who pretended to be stoic promised he would help his sister, but maybe he too could use a pack of gum. We were at the gate, the Flight Attendants (back them all females and they were Stewardess’s…thank God that changed), were empathetic and saw how hard it was for me to hide my tears.
My children, (the loves of my life, my everything) were going back to Pittsburgh and I felt the deep hole of loneliness, self-loathing because I still thought the Gay in me made this happen, and all I could do is stand there and wave. Both kids tried their best not to let their father see any sadness, brave and loving kids. The doors were about to shut, and I placed my hands in my pants pocket, a gesture I used to perform at any airport from which I had to say goodbye to my kids and DAMN IT, hiding in plain sight, in my pockets were the three packs of chewing gum. Oh my God, my little baby girl and her big brother, wanted this, NEEDED this. I ran to the Gate Attendant, tears flowing, holding the three packs of chewing gum, and all I could get out of the blubbering verbiage dripping like rain from a broken gutter was PLEASE, my kids really want this. The gate attendant looked at me, handed me a tissue, and said, I can break the rules this one time. She escorted me on the plane, my son was buckling up my daughter, he was taking charge, and both kids smiled with delight (sadly thinking I was to join them), and I handed them the packs of chewing gum. They kissed me I kissed them, the Gate Attendant, kissed my kids, hugged me and when we both were off the plane pulled out a box of Kleenex, and for the next however many minutes, we both stood at the gate and cried!
Congress is still on RECESS, Nancy and Chuck talk a big game, but have scored zero points. Kids are still in Concentration Camps, but the 24 candidates still in Iowa or wherever the fuck they think they need to go to win votes, and kids have been separated from their mother's fathers and family. Epstein supposedly committed suicide (Vlad is so good at making death seem so natural) Congress is still on RECESS. I do have some idea of missing your children, thank goodness as evil and intentional as the Trump Crime Team had created…and CONGRESS IS STILL ON RECESS! Oh dear God!
