Monday, November 12, 2018

Crying On The Way Home From LAX

I have cried three times leaving work at LAX, and I have only worked there for seven days.

The first cry was day one when I was overwhelmed, but the other two cries were very different.

Cry number two happened on day four. A woman came up to check in and was bravely holding her tears back with every ounce of courage she had. She was checking in her dad and grandfather. They both needed a lot of assistance. I could tell she didn't have the strength.

Finally, a moment of clarity came when she said, "I have one more question." and she stood there trying to find the words, but instead just stood there. Slowly she continued, "My brother died unexpectedly..." Her next words burst out along with her tears, "My father is carrying my brother's ashes, is that ok?" And she cried and cried.

I put my hand on her arm as she cried. I tried with everything inside of me not to cry with her, to stay professional. "It's fine. Let me help you."  I got a wheelchair for her grandfather; and noted that her dad was hard of hearing. I let her escort the ashes as far as she could. As I did these things she calmed. I'm not sure anyone had been taking care of her.

She composed herself, thanked me sincerely and walked away. I turned around and pulled the tears in my eyes back into my head and pulled all my courage together to help the next person.

Cry number three was yesterday. I was working at the self check in kiosks and an older woman walked through the door. She stopped suddenly and gasped as she covered her mouth. I thought maybe she had forgotten her license or suddenly remembered she was in the wrong airport, so I walked up with a smile, "Everything ok?" She stood with her hand on her mouth shaking her head quickly.

I took the smile off my face, "What's going on?"

She moved her hand to her heart and whispered, "My daughter has cancer and has just dropped me off. I wonder if I will see her again." And she pursed her lips together not wanting to cry. I put one hand under one of her arms and put my hand her back and helped her away from the door. She told me of her daughters chemo and the things she had gone through.  She told me how hard it was to watch her go down hill and I listened.  Finally, after she had calmed down, she pulled out a piece of paper and said, "I think my daughter already checked me in."

I said, "Let's take a look." Surprising myself, my voice cracked as I said it. The woman saw my kindness and said, "What is your name?" and I said, "Liz."  She started crying. "That is my granddaughter's name. I think that is a good sign."

I'm glad that even my name can help someone feel a little stronger.  One thing that I never expected with this job was being a source of comfort.  I was sure people would disrespectfully rushed by.  I expected people to yell at me when I couldn't let them on the flight, but I never expected people to cry; to need me to more than just to check them in.

I sometimes wonder if I will get callused to it.  I sure hope not.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

The dark or the light?

There is a dark spot and a light spot in every situation.

Today I find myself sitting calmly at a coffee shop, sipping a chai latte and slowly eating a cheese roll.  And it is wonderful.

This is happening because baseball season ended a couple days ago and I will no longer have to work 14 hour days for a week a time.  I get to go to cross country meets and see friends.  I get to work on my house and build a new apartment.  (Yes, you heard me. I'm building myself an apartment with my own two hands. More to come.)

Now that all sounds really wonderful, but that's because that's how I choose to look at it.

It could be this instead:

Today I find myself sitting at a coffee shop, drinking a chai wondering where my life is going.  Baseball season has ended and I don't get to see my work friends for another six months and the paychecks will be missing.  The lack of community and money brings stress that sits in the back of my head and I wonder, "What am I going to do with my life?"

Both of these are true, but which one do I choose to focus on? The first one of course because I'm Liz Hetzel, it's what I do.  But honestly, it's harder somedays than others. Sometimes I just need to sit in the stress and say "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!"  But other times, I just need to remember that there is light and dark in every situation.  I choose the light.

Thursday, July 5, 2018

What's Love Got To Do With It?

The song "What's Love Got To Do With It" never made sense to me. I always thought the Beatles knew what they were talking about when they sang "All You Need Is Love."

I was wrong.

I recently went through a break up that was full of love. We both love each other, we both wanted to make it work, but ultimately our futures weren't lining up and we had to make the logical decision to end it.

The day we broke up I went on a hike. Exercise always makes me feel better. I mindlessly chose a hike and headed out bravely.  Not far in I came across this big gorgeous open field of grass where I had imagined we would get married. A little piece of me broke.

I sat down on the ground and cried hoping to collect that little part of me that broke, but alas nothing was going to fix the shattered dreams.  So, I got up off the ground, leaving that little broken piece behind, and hiked on.

This has been the repeated pattern ever since we broke up. There are so many shattered dreams that I see everywhere. The ring we had picked out sitting alone in the cupboard. The tiny house we had worked on together that we would never live in. The National Parks checklist that would never be complete.

With every little piece of me that breaks, I have to continue on. I logically know that as time goes by I will slowly heal. But today it hurts and that's okay.

There are times when you just have to get through it.  You have to let little parts of you break away so that they can be filled with other things.

The night after our break up, I went to my folks house and my dad had set up his telescope. It was a warm summer night. We looked at Saturn and Jupiter and it was fantastic. He just let me be sad and weepy. He let me just be me. A little part of me was filled.

One night I had to go to work and I knew I would have to hear my ex's voice over the walkie talkie.  I told a fellow co-worker that it was going to be awful hearing his voice. When he came on the walkie talkie, she locked eyes with me made fists and whispered "You got this." I honestly would have lost it, but she kept me strong.

It takes a village.  Making it through life can be hard, but people around you will save you.

That big gorgeous open field.