We drove Elliot to the airport on Sunday. The massive crowds, the lines, friends of ours stuck in Tokyo trying to get home to Okinawa, all served as clues for what would come. Still there just wasn’t much we could do. We found out quickly that Elliot’s flight was delayed, so we stayed for lunch and pushed off Asher’s nap as best we could. We came to a painful realization that although we could continue to stay together, we needed to go. Sometimes, you just have to get the goodbye behind you. So we left Elliot, and after a few more hours, he made it to Tokyo. There, his journey came to a grinding halt. I don’t understand all of the details, just that a snowstorm was involved, and the city seemed to go into energy-saving mode. No taxis, no hotels, of course, no flights. Elliot camped in an urban jungle/refugee camp called the airport for 48 hours, then finally left this evening for the States. We await news of his safe arrival.
Meanwhile, Isla and Asher (and me) have begun their adjustment to the new normal. They have fully embraced their daddy mementos. They’re talking like champs on the phone to him (those of you who have experienced FaceTime or – gasp- a camera-free phone call with Isla know the significance of this). And yesterday, their daddy dolls arrived, really in perfect time. They immediately began talking to these dolls, hugging them, taking them to bed. Tonight, as I laid Asher in his crib, he patted his doll and said, “night, night, dada.” Melted my heart. We’re doing good, all things considered. And now that Elliot has finally made it out of Tokyo, I hope he’s doing better, too!