The magazine I was reading had an essay prompt: when did you feel like you became an adult? My answer came easy: when my child died.

Along the way there have been a lot of times that I have taken little steps forward, overcoming new obstacles, handling situations that I would previously have classified as “adult.” But March 6, 2008 I jumped forward 10 years. I was given no choice, no alternative, I simply had to deal. Death is sobering, death makes you suddenly feel your mortality like a physical weight hanging within, tick-tocking back and forth counting down the days though you can’t see the numbers. Everyone, child and adult alike, will freely admit that someday they will die. But to a child that day seems in another lifetime, certainly not something to concern themselves with now. But an adult is in that lifetime, and knows it. When my child died, so did my sense of security, the feeling that I had my whole life ahead of me. What I had was so fleeting, and taken away before we really understood what we had. To me being an adult means not just living for today, but recognizing that the little things really are little things and life’s journey does not necessarily lead you where you wanted to go. It’s about recognizing and accepting my limits.

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Yesterday my flights got fucked up. My first flight was over an hour late arriving at the airport, therefore over an hour late taking off with us inside. It was headed to one of the airline’s massive hubs, and almost all of us were scheduled for connecting flights to our destinations. We all missed those connecting flights.

There was a mass of angry people. I don’t blame them for their anger – it was a mechanical, not weather, delay, which means it was solely the responsibility of the airline. I looked around at all these upset people who were snapping at the customer service representatives and bitching about this and that, and smiled at the person on the other side of the counter. I thanked them for their help and observed that it must be a very long, trying day for them. There was woman with a 10 month old baby. That baby swung her legs in her stroller, looked around and smiled broadly at me. I made faces at her and giggled. She and I shared a secret: our forced layover was not a disaster.

I got a free night in a very nice hotel room. I got to sleep on a large, comfy bed, with fresh sheets, all to myself. I had time to take a shower, brush my teeth, change my clothes. I had a free breakfast. I got some time to read a book.

Is it where I wanted to be today? No. But I’m not at work, I’m not cleaning my house. I’m still on vacation, it just changed a little.

One year, when I was dating Den while in college in Canada, I flew out to visit him for Christmas. Being that it was the middle of winter, I ended up getting stranded in Chicago overnight due to a winter storm. Back then I didn’t handle it as gracefully, crying on the phone. I wanted to be with Den, not stuck in Chicago! But, with no alternative, I pulled myself together and got help at the service desk. They helped me find a hotel room (not free, since that time it was not their fault, but I had a credit card and generous parents), directed me to the shuttle bus, rebooked my flight. After making it to the hotel I walked down the street to a macdonalds to get some dinner before heading to bed. Very early in the morning I took the shuttle bus back to the airport to catch my flight. I got off that plane with an incredible sense of accomplishment. Life threw me a curveball, and I caught it. I think that was my first real lesson that things don’t have to go as planned for it to turn out okay. When I look back at that trip I don’t remember frustration or fear. I remember a blissful night and pride.

Yesterday when I learned that I was going to miss my connecting flight I decided to look forward to a nice, peaceful night – my own private getaway. There are too many stressful things in life. This didn’t need to be one of them.

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Granted after I wrote all of that I got to the airport and found out my flight was cancelled. But there was a new one scheduled for the same time slot so they put me on that. No worries, crisis averted. I sat and read a book until it was time to board.

And then we ended up getting diverted mid-flight to a different airport due to weather. I started laughing when they told us we weren’t landing in St. Louis… I mean, really?? My husband’s exact response after I landed and texted him was “O M F G.” I think that summed it all up. Thankfully it was a very quick stop and we were able to land soon enough, but holy hell man, this was supposed to be a short day of travel… not nearly 24 hours of problems!

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If you didn’t know, I am visiting Kel for a few days. Woo hoo!