May Memoir: Ca va? Stories from Rural Life in Southern France, Chapter 21: Delays

O'Hare airport

Welcome to May MEMOIR!

Day 22

For the entire month of May, I'll be sharing part of each chapter from my memoir, Ca va?  Stories from Rural Life in Southern France.

Another Christmas is upon us and this time I’m taking Christophe to meet the family.  After numerous passport problems and airport delays, we finally arrive at Chicago’s O’Hare airport.

Chapter 21: Delays

 We are scheduled to arrive in Chicago in the early evening; it is already dark outside.  The plane begins its descent, passing through the clouds and we eventually emerge within sight again of the ground.

“Wow!”  Christophe says enthusiastically.  He is looking out the window at the lights of a city below.  “That’s Chicago?  It’s enormous.”

I lean over and look out the window.  “No, that’s Gary, Indiana”, I reply with a little laugh.  “Those lights are the factory smoke stacks.  Wait a few minutes and then we should see Chicago.”

Within a few minutes, the city emerges.  It is a close to endless sea of lights, all lined up in perfect symmetry followed by a giant black abyss: Lake Michigan.  We make a pass towards the airport, and as the airplane turns Christophe get a full view of the miles and miles the city covers.  He is speechless.  As the plane continues to descend, we begin to see small squares that develop into houses.

“Those are Christmas lights on the houses!”  He exclaims.  “We can see Christmas lights from the plane!”  I look over; he is right.  On dozens of houses colorful lights appear, making the tour of the roof.  In one sense, the lights looks tired and old, like the construction of the 1950’s prefabricated houses that surround the airport.  They were new and pretty at one point in time, but tarnished like snow left lying on the city’s dirty streets.  On the other hand, there is a gaiety and sense of joy seeing the holiday lights.  They are like a welcome mat, laying out a colorful pattern and guiding us to runway.  I am actually very happy and touched to see them and I am lost once again in the childhood awe of the season.

As the plane continues to descend, we are just above and then quickly at the same level of the houses we see as we speed towards our destination.  The lights and houses are clearer now and everything comes into focus.  The wheels touch down, the plane breaks, and we eventually come to a full stop.  We have arrived.