Over the Pole

So much for the magic of technology. Last night was one of horrors.

I walked away from my desk, from watching the arc of the flight route across the Hudson Bay toward the North Pole, my sweet precious love of my life, my Charlie being transported to his new life across the world, when it happened. Three and a half hours after departure from New York's Kennedy airport.

The smooth white and green dotted line careened to a halt. A solid white line veering in a 45 degree angle due south-west. To a point in the Cascade Mountains near Spokane. And stopped. Zero MPH. Zero foot altitude.

Refresh page. Nothing changed. Again. Nada. Same white line. Same ending point. Same stats.

My heart jolted to a screeching halt. A buzzing filled my head. My ears rang dull.

Frantic calls to Cathay Pacific went unanswered. After hours in the U.S. A deep thud in my gut. My boy. My precious heart.

As the sound came back into my racing mind I methodically Googled the FAA equivalent in Hong Kong. The airport there. They would know. Simultaneously I opened the website for CNN and the Seattle Times for news that would at once rock my world and silence my being. Nothing. Not yet. Too soon perhaps.

Phone calls across the globe yielded nothing. No information. No one in a position to know anything. "That is not on our screens. Call so-and-so at such-and-such. Have a nice day."

A software error? Computer malfunction? Out of range? Or, worse?

Panic oozed sour in my mouth. Paralysis gripped my muscles. My head buzzed with a palpable fear. One apprehensive minute after another dripped by slowly. Achingly. For eleven hours in the black of the night.

Ringggggggggggggggg. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. A pre-requested text message arrives on my Motorola RazR. Flight 481 has arrived on time in Hong Kong.

The correct trajectory. The planned flight path followed. An errant glitch in a faraway computer wreaking havoc with me, my sister and brother-in-law. Caused perhaps by a stealth surveillance of another transoceanic flight to Europe with alleged terrorists aboard.

Modern technology be damned. No more following flights moment-by-moment. Never again. Ever.

China Trade Route Hopping (and Hoping)

Hello, my love … and welcome to your new home in the Far East!

In reality you are a mere 16% of the way there. I am tracking the flight on a map (had to get it from another website) and you are 1,100 miles from NYC with 7,000 to go to touch down.

Bailey is looking over my shoulder and is pleased you are above her native Labrador. She asked me to inquire whether you can see black labs frolicking on the snow covered terrain, since she knows as a fact that all Labs love freezing weather, but I reminded her that you are in the middle section and most likely the shades are drawn so you and your fellow passengers can view movies and play backgammon with themselves en route.

It is suppertime here and I have thrown together a big salad Niçoise (sans potatoes and haricot verts but you get the picture). Bailey is staring at her bowl in the corner of the crate and trying to psychically alter the state of the kibble in hopes that it will magically convert to hamburger bits before her eyes. Bored, she steps back out onto the Kilim pillow and sighs. She has ventured up to your room in vain. Didn’t even take a rest on the calico patch floor cushion she knows is hers. We are both trying to adapt to your absence in our own ways.

I, on the other hand, have been busy Googling hotels and flights to Hong Kong, train schedules to Guangzhou (around US$60 RT for the 90 minute ride on the iron rooster with commuting Chinese proletariat no more), and my desired destination of Hanoi near the lake and as close to the Opera and all things French Vietnamese as possible. My armchair sojourn has been quite exhilarating. I feel that I am getting the lay of the land (your new land) from the comfort (for the time being) of the French rattan bistro chair in front of my aging Dell Latitude.

This is so much more efficient than waiting several months for sea-sodden letters describing the gateway to the East. Marco Polo has little on you, my intrepid son. We (that's the collective 'we') miss you. But, my darling (and this I mean with all my heart) you are off on the adventure of your lifetime. A modern-day post-colonialist with the very best of intentions, compassion, passion and an unimaginable zest for the new and unknown.

Welcome to your new home. May you flourish despite the tropical clime and sow seeds that will reap a bounty over your lifetime. I love you, Charlie.

Devotedly (and admittedly pea green with envy), your Mama sitting on the edge of the sea in an olden New England seafaring town yearning to join your adventure (if even from afar).

Cheers, my love, safe travels and Godspeed xoxo

Guest Blogger: Flyin' Over the Pole

My email this afternoon updating family re the flight path of Charlie's flight to Hong Kong from the northeast United States declares unabashedly: "The plane is now entering Canada near the VT/NH border as it wends its way over the North Pole. He’s off!”

With respect and giggles from the Doodle Brothers Momma (AKA Charlie's musically talented auntie and fellow Harvard alum) comes this modern today rendition of a 1960s tune by Arlo. Apologies Mr. Guthrie ... but this land is your land, this land is my land ... and so is this song!

Coming in from BOSTON
From over the pole
Flying in a big airliner
Wi-Fi playing everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer?

CHORUS:

Coming into Asia’s Jardines
Bringing in a can of sardines
Don't touch my chips or my beans
Mister Customs Man

There's a guy with a ticket to Hong Kong Bay
No, he couldn't look much stranger
Biking through the hall with his red rickshaw
Smiling, said he was a Mao Ranger

CHORUS

What a trip. I’m right there with him, along with “Major John to flight control . . . “I want it!!!!! I want it!!!!! I want it!!!!! I want it!!!!!”

Cheers ... and not even a little whiff of the poppies, Dorothy!

Animal Totem Redux: For Charlie on the Eve of His Journey

Cross-legged I sit on my downy white comforter, nightgown drawn above my knees in a comfortable Indian-style position. It is Charlie’s last night home. The final page of this chapter. The one of childhood fancies, teenage antics and campfire stories in the shimmering moon glow in the Colorado Rockies, boarding school studies, and college garden parties amid friends dressed to the nines. He is embarking on his life path. A journey that will take him 8000 miles from his roots to chart his future. Distancing him from his youth, but not his heart.

I place the fanned cards in front of him on the bed. A casino croupier asking him to cut the deck. Choose four. One at a time. East. South. West. North. Plus one for the middle. The sacred mountain card. We carefully place each face down, yellow lightening bolt jagged across the cobalt back. The zig-zags of life sparkling against the snowy ground, concealing his aura. A circle. Four coordinates of the compass not unlike the scratched lens of his well-worn spyglass resting on the chest of drawers in his emptying room. South toward the sea, north to Canada.

As it happened, and nothing is a coincidence, the cards Charlie selected are propitious, indeed. The more that I do these readings (with the assistance of interpretations and seasoned insights gleaned from those whose roots lie in Native American wisdom), the more connected I feel with the other beings cohabitating our planet.

So without further ado … tom-tom beating to the cadence of the earth’s rhythms, dream webs capturing the essence of our goodness filtering our negative energies to be channeled for better use … here’s what the great sky gods revealed for my Charlie.

The Medicine Wheel Spread divines those life forces and spiritual strengths shaping his spirit from four randomly selected cards. Each is placed according to the location on a compass. The fifth and final card is placed in the middle representing the present.

EAST card reveals spiritual strength. An auspicious revelation of the the major challenge blocking your path. To circumnavigate it gracefully will allow you to seek, and obtain, clarity in your present position.

East = Buffalo

This is the most sacred. The appearance of a white buffalo is a sign that prayers are heard. It shows a time of abundance and plenty, of prophecy been fulfilled. Buffalo signifies gratitude and praise, give praise for the richness of life.


SOUTH card describes how animal medicine is teaching the child within your adult self. It is what you need to trust in yourself and what you need to nurture in your growing self.

South = Turkey

Giving away is the deep abiding recognition of sacrifices of both self and others. You act and react on behalf of others. The acknowledgement that what you do for others, you do for yourself. You are being given a gift. The gift may be large or small but never insignificant. A windfall. A beautiful sunset. Or just the spirit of giving.

WEST card gives internal solutions to your present life challenge it indicates where your goals need challenge.

West = Bat

Bat is the symbol of rebirth showing death to the old way of life, breaking down all the former notions of self. It signifies ritualistic death that prepares you for rebirth. The universe is asking you in every way to grow and become your future. Acknowledge your destiny. Leverage your talents, your abilities fully. Use the agility of your mind, your steadfast courage and tensile strength to encourage and assure an easier labor.

NORTH card teaches you how you may spiritually apply and interrogate the lessons of the other directions. The animal medicine of this card is the key to walking in wisdom knowing the teacher within and connecting to the higher self.

North = Armadillo

Your boundaries of safety are part of the total being. It is a gift to set boundaries so that so that harmful words and intentions just roll off. Your lesson is in setting your own boundaries. Set up your boundaries that allow only experiences that you want to be a part of. This boundary becomes a shield and ward off things which are undesirable to you.

The SACRED MOUNTAIN card represents the present melding physical with spiritual realities in the here and now.

Sacred Mountain = Moose

The moose enjoys a job well done; and, sharing his joy. He has the innate ability to know just when to use the gentleness of a deer and when to activate the stampede of the herd. He possesses the balance of leadership with the willingness to do things himself. A leader with compassion and a strong sense of fairness. Caveat: Be mindful that ego, when unchecked, can ruin one's self of accomplishment. By growing calm for awhile, the strength and wisdom of silence fills the heart Quieting the arrogance. Stilling the buzz.

So my son, my darling Charlie, is a compassionate leader with the sensitivity, balance and sense of fairness to give to those in need. And by doing so, reaps a greater bounty. He gives of himself easily but sets reasonable boundaries for self-preservation. The world is his oyster. We already know that. And he is not only comfortable in his own skin, but intuits the needs of his fellow man. My gentle giant, a great and passionate spirit, resides in a boundaryless world. The future is his to mold. But he must take care to do so responsibly.

To the great white buffalo that resides within his soul and empowers his spirit ... cheers!

Aberdeen Haircut

What is it with Charlie and his haircuts? Especially when they are short. Buzz cuts, almost.

November 2003. Aberdeen, Scotland. College tour. Walking through the shadows of granite buildings, blustery winds blow off the North Sea. This is the Houston of the UK. Oil rigs float offshore, dotting the horizon.

Charlie's hair flops in the breeze. Beatle-style. He needs a haircut. *Poof* We pass a barber. A stylist actually. £3.5 $6 roughly. Such a deal.

We walk in. The bell on the door tinkles. The barber waves us in. I sit in an armchair by the picture window and pull postcards and a pen out of my overstuffed LV bag. Settling in comfy I compose one missive after another to friends at home. Charlie takes his seat on the leather chair facing the mirror. I drift off waiting. It took some time. Longer than usual. But it had been awhile since I sat waiting for him to get a haircut.

When he came over to me thirty minutes later I looked up with a giggle. Charlie definitely got his money's worth. Perched on the top of his gorgeous head was one of those classic Scottish schoolboy clips. Short everywhere except the bangs. He was furious with me. Me?!

Me because I wasn't paying attention to his haircut. Even though with his back to me across the room I had no view of the mirror he was peering into. Oh Charlie. He stressed about it all the way through dinner that evening. He still reminds me of it seven years later.

August 2010. Salon 96. Maine Summer is drawing to a close. Earlier in the day we played backgammon on Parson's Beach, ate turkey wraps while drinking lemonade and walked along the shore. Sailboats floated in the stiff wind. In a few short days Charlie will board the jet that will whisk him across the globe to his new life, his new job.

His hair flops in the breeze. We head to Cheryl who keeps my tresses tame and shiny. Up the stairs into her studio. Charlie perched on the chair in front of the mirror. I settle into the black leather chair by the window immersing myself in People.

Cheryl and Charlie are deep in conversation as she clips his locks. I drift off into the world of ersatz wannabe celebs. When he touches my arm a scowl is clearly on his face. he is not pleased. His hair looks great. But in his opinion, it is waaaaaaaaaay to short. And he will be embarrassed when he matriculates at his new job in Hong Kong the following week. Again, I should have been watching so I could have curbed her scissors. Another Aberdeen do. And, la Mama's to blame.

But that's okay. The next day he loves his haircut. And I love that I have had a few opportunities to be with him regardless of the activity. it seems like yesterday that I carried him into my salon for his very first haircut. A big boy cut. Where does the time go?

To my cherished memories of those magical moments with my precious son. I will miss our frequent visits ... but anticipate with great pleasure what is to come.