Panic at Passport Control

In the first hour, we lost my mom.

She had been right behind me as we deplaned. My father, seated at the front due to his disability, rose slowly as I checked his seat for anything left behind.

I don't know how it happened. I looked behind me but saw only strangers. The fuzzy pom-pom hat I'd been using to identify her was nowhere in sight.

"Does your father need wheelchair assistance?" a patient aide asked. My father waved them off. "No, I don't think so," I said.

"It's a far walk... you should probably take it," the aide recommended.

I whipped my head around. The wheelchair was no longer a priority. "Hang on." I looked ahead but couldn't see the familiar pom-pom hat. "My mom is missing."

Had she been kidnapped? She was a pretty easy target. "Oh my God, I'm traveling with two easy targets," I cringed at the thought.

I ran back down the jet bridge to the plane. "Is there anyone else on this plane? Maybe in the bathroom?" I wondered if she had made a stop on her way out.

"No," they responded confidently. "Everyone has deplaned."

My brain didn't understand. She wouldn't have just gone off without us, would she?

It had been a while since the three of us had traveled together, but was she that impatient or unaware? I couldn't recall a time when she had been that bad, though she'd had her moments.

I checked the plane again. And again. The aide could see my anxiety rising.

Finally, I turned to him. "My mom isn't here, so we might as well move forward." My dad dropped slowly and heavily into the seat. The aide spoke rapidly in Korean, his words muffled by a mask. I couldn't comprehend him, nor did I care to. We walked down a hallway that seemed to last forever. We turned down another hallway. The halls were empty.

Then, the room opened up: passport checks. No one was there waiting for us. But somewhere in the middle of the line, I spotted it—the pom-pom hat!

"Mom!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing over here?" In my excitement, I must have spoken louder than I realized. Polite travelers pretended to ignore me. Some looked up, startled that someone would cause such a commotion before 6 a.m.

My words were machine-gun fire. Why did she leave us behind? Why didn't she turn back when she realized we were not in front of her? How could my disabled father even move that fast?

"I thought you were in front of me and I panicked!" she exclaimed.

"But HOW?" I retorted.

"I thought the wheelchair people took you guys away!" she replied. But the logic didn't compute.

"YOU have Dad's passport! How far could we get?" My face was probably turning red.

I had to stop fighting the logic battle. We had found her, and that was a relief. Breathe, kid.

"Please," I tried a calmer approach. "Don't break line of sight with us."

She hastily agreed.

"We would never leave you behind like that," I assured her.

I realized there were no rules in our dynamic. No boundaries.

But I think she understood this one rule.

---

I wish my writing was more complete. But right now, my hands are a little tied. I’m hoping to share this snippets with the intention of putting together a more complete piece at some point in the future.

There is a lot I am learning. There are many emotions and memories being processed. Simply put, we are good. We are returning to the natural order of things.