I had to make it to the graduation!

I missed my daughter’s graduation. 

I had it all planned out just right; I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

High school had been a ride full of surprises, including meeting many principals and teachers; some who connected better than others and some who understood teens better than others. But we had made it, both my daughter and I. We survived high school; her for the first time, me for the second. 

And I had to be at the graduation. 

Even more so because she was graduating from the same school I did; there was something incredibly special about that.

The11:30pm flight right after shabbos would get me to NY with a few hours to spare before the 1pm graduation, or so I thought. I grabbed my bags right after havdala and scrambled to the car to get to the airport on time.

Sailing through security with TSAPre, I arrived at the gate with time to make myself comfortable and finish some other things on my to do list.

Slowly the boarding line formed and with boarding pass in hand, we waited to get on the plane. With midnight approaching, I clutched my neck pillow and hoped that this time I would actually sleep on the red eye. 

And then came the announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this flight has been rescheduled for tomorrow 4pm. Please go home and come back tomorrow at 2 pm to check in. Your baggage is available downstairs.”

What?

Noone moved. That didn’t really make sense.

The flight was rescheduled from 11:30 pm to 4 pm? 

Realizing we were having trouble comprehending, the agent repeated his message.

I didn’t have to do much math to know that if the flight was rescheduled to 4 pm the next day, there was no way I would make it to my daughter’s graduation.

The agent just stood there casually, as if this was a normal thing to reschedule a flight for 16 hours later, as you’re about to board.

Regardless of if it made sense or not, I was in trouble.

I headed to the desk and waited until my turn, until they told me to go downstairs to the other desk.

The night of incompetent airport employee was just beginning. 

I joined the small line of about a dozen people, my mind racing with plans. 

I have to be at the graduation. How can I get there. Suddenly California was feeling way too far from New York!

I thought of every possible route and did time-difference-math on fast forward and kept getting back to the same conclusion: there was no way I would make it in time.

Should I just go home? My cozy bed was just 30 minutes away… and considering the line wasn’t budging because they still couldn’t locate an employee who knew how to operate the airport computer, it was really tempting.

But I had to get to New York. Was it more for me or more for my daughter? I don’t know. But I had to get there, even if I’d miss the ceremony.

1 am turned to 2 and then 3. They found her! The one person in the airport who knew how to operate the computer! This definitely begged for a lot of questions on incompetence, airports and JetBlue. Standing there absolutely exhausted, I didn’t bother asking; I just needed to get another flight. The only option was 6 am from San Francisco. The line finally moved, and I got the very last seat available on the one flight that could get me to my destination.

I’d miss the celebration, but I’d at least be there the same day. Me and my new besties, Veronica and Abbey, hopped into an Uber. If there’s one positive outcome of experiencing airline incompetence, it’s making new best friends.

We asked the guy to speed just a teeny tiny bit. The flight was boarding in 2 hours and we had a 2 hour ride ahead of us. I drifted off to sleep hearing the driver tell us story after story of airport fails and missed flights.

With my eyes half closed, we raced through security and to the gate. 

“We have one middle seat left,” the attendant assured me. No, this was not a time for a middle seat. 

“What about your MINT seats?” I asked, testing my luck. I was referring to the upgraded cubicle seats; the ones that lay flat and come with a complimentary blanket and socks.

“I’ll have to see after everyone boards.”

“That’s ok, I’m used to waiting. Been doing it for 7 hours now,” I yawned.

I got the seat. I laid it flat. I snuggled under that blanket. It was the most comfortable ride ever.

It did not compensate for all the stress, but definitely a nice consolation gift.

I landed in sunny, hot and sticky New York after the graduation was over. 

I got into the Uber and got to my parent’s house even longer after it was over.

I made it for the after party.

My daughter obliged and put on her cap and gown again so we could take some necessary photos. I mean, this is big! My little girl isn’t so little apparently, and she graduated! She made it through many long years of school, which included online learning for elementary school and flying cross country many, many times over high school to get to this milestone. I found a bunch of graduation themed balloons that another niece had gotten for her celebration and we added it to the photo setup.

We went out for ice cream. We celebrated, even though it wasn’t the exact plan I had envisioned.

I have the picture on my refrigerator. It captures the joy of graduating; the pride of the mother who watched this little girl turn into a beautiful adult and the sheer joy on the girl who is done with high school. It even has the graduation balloons in it. 

I can’t help but think that as much as a picture tells a story, there’s so much more there than the picture can tell.