we, my parents and i, are optimistic fatalists. we anticipate the best and emotionally prepare for the absolute worst.
because you never know. it might happen. and if we prepare, if we devise the myriad ways in which we might go about fixing whatever unimagined horror it is, then if it does happen at least the likelihood is lessened that we'll wind up sobbing in a corner booth at a cracker barrell in culman, alabama.
i'm flying home on friday. because i really, really, really want to be in the memphis airport come 11.14 pm, i've spent the better part of the past three weeks emotionally preparing to be stranded in atlanta. because altanta seems like the next worst thing to detroit. so this is the outcome i am ready for. i am ready for the atlanta airport to dissappoint me. this is my point of focus. this is the scenario i can handle.
on the phone last night, after a confession of my fear, my mum paused, inhaled deeply and said quietly, as if afraid to verbalize the horror: gosh, i hope your chicago flight doesn't get cancelled. that would be so tragical. my poor baby, CANCELLATED!!!
upon her wail of grief, my father's steps could be heard in the background as he came rushing down the stairs and into the room. my mum quickly informed him of the previously unanticipated possibility of the unparalleled horror of being cancellated. to which my father, ever the voice of reason, paused, inhaled deeply and said quietly: well, that would be the end of the world. but don't worry. we'll fix it.