A Whole New View

One year ago, my son and his family moved to Jackson, Mississippi. We knew their commitment would be a year, and we also knew they would be returning to Dayton thereafter. Still, we missed them terribly. Since then, my husband and I have been to Jackson countless times. I can tell you how many steps it takes to get from the Jackson airport jetway to the exit near baggage claim where we’d anxiously anticipate my son’s car rounding the airport drive bend to pick us up. We just couldn’t be away from our little ones for too long.

For months, we anticipated our last trek to the Magnolia State. This time, it would be to bring three of our four grandchildren back to Dayton. The idea was to make move-week a bit less hectic. Packing a household with 4 little ones under the age of 6 is, in itself, an SOS call.  Last week, my husband and I made our final trek to Jackson. We were thrilled. It was time for them all to come home.

With backpacks filled with snacks, our 6, 4, and almost 3-year-olds made our way through airport security and settled into our gate lounge. As we waited for departure, we had much discussion about who would score the coveted window seat. Three excited little ones with one window seat made for creative planning. Intense negotiation ensued. The world of compromise in air travel for such little people is an art, I’d say. And, for the record, I don’t think grandparents need to follow parenting guidelines. Rather, we just need to sail through difficulties with whatever it takes. In other words, we came armed with candy.  

The boarding process set the tone for lots of excitement. We were part of that “small children who need some extra time” group. Our Thomas, almost 3, thought the first seat with a window was his. I was sorry to tell him his first class status would have to wait until far beyond his travel days with Pops and Nona.

We walked, and kept on walking down the narrow aisle towards row 28, the row closest to the rear lavatory. That would have been ok except in the last row, there are no windows. Well, try telling a 4 and almost 3 year old there are no windows after a thoughtful and intentional negotiation conversation about sharing “window time.” Talk about expectation letdown…..even the flight attendant’s offering of Biscotti cookies was underwhelming. In fairness, I ask, did you like Biscotti when you were 4?

So, how did we navigate the first leg of our windowless flight experience? In a word, candy. I’m unapologetic. Skittles and gummy worms go a long way.

The next flight from Atlanta was golden in the eyes of our grandkids. We were assigned to Row 27 which I knew from the last leg had windows. Five seats across an entire row which meant we would have two window seats. We walked on the plane with renewed hope for a view of the clouds.

“Look, Nona, there are 2 windows,” they exclaimed with joy. They jubilantly bounced over the folded seat belts to embrace the object of their delayed gratification. Upon raising the window shades, there, in up-close view was an entire visual blockade of the engine. “This is great,” I responded with overwhelming enthusiasm. “The engine is a very important part of the plane to see!”

In all, we were so grateful for the ability to circumvent a 12-hour car drive from Jackson, Mississippi even with a less than optimal window experience on a plane. I’m sure our grandchildren will have many more flight experiences with wonderful views of the clouds. For us, the view of their excited faces will remain our greatest in-flight delight.