J and I had a harrowing day. It's been snowing all weekend, which hadn't amounted until much until this morning, when, of course, I was due to go up to San Mateo for the day. With no plows coming through until 7am, and a 6:45am flight, we were fighting our way up the hill of our driveway at 5am with huge big chunks of snow coming down at the rate of several inches an hour. We needed chains almost the whole way down the mountain. I got to the airport at 6:15, just barely in time for my flight.
J took a nap in the Target parking lot while I was on the most frightening flight of my life, as we were going through the rain clouds. They had warned us it was going to get "bumpy" - they didn't tell us it was going to get like a roller coaster. We were literally being knocked in every direction, up and down, sideways, and directions I didn't even know existed. The seatbelt dug into my lap and I hit my head on the window and the guy next to me had his seatbelt on too loose and got thrown up six inches in the air. So yeah, it was scary.
At the same time J was trying to head up the mountain and the chains snapped. He wound up stuck in a snowbank with the rear of the car hanging out into the road. Finally a tow truck driver came by and offered to "drag" him back up the mountain. Ever see those people in roller rinks join hands and whip the "end" people around the corners? That's what J was going through as this tow truck dragged the little car through the rocks and such along the side of the mountain road. Thankfully there wasn't any damage to the car, but now the chains are caught in the wheel and he's going to have to cut them, which is going to be a job.
It's been a very tiring day and I'm glad to be going to sleep soon. While I was on my scary flight trying to stay calm I listened to one of my favorite hymns of all time, It is Well with my soul. The guy who wrote it had some tragic stuff happen - a baby die, losing everything in the chicago fire, then all four daughters die in a shipwreck in the Atlantic. As he was going to join his wife in Europe, and passed near where his daughters died, he wrote the hymn as a reflection of what was still good - mercy and grace and love and forgiveness - and that things were indeed well with his soul. Once we got above the clouds I was feeling quite close to God, and it wasn't just the fact that I had almost died. I felt a loving presence reassuring me that things were ok, and it is all good with my soul.
I'm going to bed soon. Another long day tomorrow, and a three day weekend to look forward to. I hope i have good dreams. Last night I had a dream that I was at some conference and crashed a bunch of high school reunions, totally piss drunk, saying I was a spokesman for Coke, and then passing out. One funny scene I remember was when everyone was posing for the class portrait, and I popped in, yelled "Spokesman for Coke" and then passed out. Very strange dream indeed.