By the time we got to the Indianapolis airport, our fortunes suddenly seemed to improve. My wife’s youngest daughter took our place at the hospital and was immediately involved in moving her grandmother to a convalescence home. She’s a Physician’s Assistant at a major hospital in Washington D.C. and used her time off to come to Indianapolis. I could immediately sense some of the stress falling off my wife’s shoulders.

Hertz continued to be a disappointment. I had to go out of my way to redeem a discount certificate they gave me for having to go out of my way in Chicago. It seems like they should easily be able to tack on the discount while I’m returning the car. Instead, I once again had to wait in line at the counter, defeating the whole purpose of being a Gold Club member. I gave them a very poor review on their requested survey, so I’m hoping to hear from them soon to voice my complaints for their multitude of  holiday hassles.

Our next challenge was a flight delay on United that was jeopardizing our connection back to Portland from Chicago. When all was said and done, I felt like O.J. Simpson dashing through the massive O’Hare terminal complex. We made it with only minutes to spare, expecting to be separated into two center seats. Luckily, just as had been the case on the trip out, both seats next to me were vacant, giving us amble space to spread out. I got to watch the Rose Bowl, read the “Grant” autobiography, and blog, while my wife played mindless games on her I-Pad. She needed some lengthy down time after all she’s been through this week. She’ll even have a couple of Christmas gifts to unwrap at home, before the first work day of the year. This reminds me that I need to write a poem to accompany one of my gifts.

It’s good to be home and to sleep in our own bed. I had time this morning to send out a couple of belated holiday cards that arrived during our extended time in Indianapolis. Furthermore, I’m waiting on a call from the washer repairperson, so we can catch up on travel laundry that has predictably piled up. There was also no time to prepare our traditional boiled cabbage “good-luck” dinner to celebrate the new year, so we’ll remedy that at dinner tonight. I was just grateful, as I went outside to run, that there was no snow on the ground and that the temperatures were above freezing.  Fortunes are definitely changing!