Relationships

Letters to my Husband – Part 1 – Delay (Canberra)

I have taken a new job. I know, totally random. I aim to keep you all on your toes.

This role involves me travelling interstate and eventually internationally, educating hospitals. It is an exciting and dynamic job. Not only do I get to travel, and learn a brand new side to medicine, I also get to learn about running a business from my two inspiring bosses who set up the company. Winning.

While I love to travel. I also love my husband. At the moment this new role means that I can be away for up to two weeks at a time. If you have read my marriage series you will be aware that I am completely and utterly obsessed with my husband. Working out how to have an excellent marriage with a lot of time in separate cities is something we will have to figure out.

In the past, almost all of my travels have been with Him by my side. Hence I have been able to share all aspects of travel with him. The food we eat, the sights we see, our running commentary as we people watch at local coffee shops (one of my favourite things).

Hence this new series. Writing is such a glorious outlet for me and the best way I know how to creatively communicate my inside thoughts. Hence I plan to write about the travel side of my work.

Be warned. It sounds like a glamorous job. Travelling around Australia educating hospitals. In truth I probably spend more than 90% of my time in hospitals, airports and hotels. Hence, I’m not sure I will be able to bring you the hot spots of each city. However, you will be able to see the world through the eyes of a little quirky brown girl. I know. Your welcome.

So here goes. My new series of letters to my husband. Enjoy.

Letter one – The Delayed Flight.

Dearest Mark,

Here I am at Melbourne airport after a four hour flight from Darwin. An excellent flight actually. There were rows of seats near the end of the plane. As soon as the seat belt sign went off I rushed over and ‘shot gunned’ one of the free rows. I asked the prettiest airhostess for a blanket. She raised an eyebrow and asked if I had a coat for Canberra. “No” I replied. I could hear her thoughts. “If your cold in here honey. Good luck in Canberra.” She got me a blanket though (bless her). If she didn’t I was going to launch into a speech about how it was very hot where I came from. The hot uncharted Northern Territory where I have been serving as a ‘missionary’. It’s not really a lie right? After all we are all missionaries wherever we are. And I did fly in from Darwin. And my husband is in ‘ministry’. So technically I’m not lying/sinning.

Anyhoo. I stretched out with my flannel blanket and napped in a little patch of sun.

I woke up in a patch of my own drool. When I fall asleep I seem to lay every shred of dignity aside and transcend into another world.

My physical body flops my muscles relax and randomly jerk, my mouth opens, letting oodles of saliva drool out unrestrained. I awoke on the plane to the uncomfortable stare of a well-dressed gentleman standing in the cue for the toilet. The kind of uncomfortable stare that occurs when you have drooled, jerked and grunted for an unknown amount of time. Poor man was probably unsure as to whether or not he should call for medical attention.

My stopover in Melbourne, to my great delight, was met with the exciting news that my flight too Canberra was delayed for two hours. Oh yes nothing like a delayed flight. Especially when you’re on your own and you hate HATE to wait. Ahhhhh. The patience of God is sure not manifesting at the moment. Quite the opposite in fact.

I guess I shall park myself at a cafe and people watch. My actual favourite thing to do. Just a side note. I can’t help it. I have a natural curiosity about people. In fact if you left your diary open on my desk I would probably find it really hard to not read it. In fact I would probably read it. I can’t help it. I am a creative. I am a curious about your life.

People Watching

So let me set the scene for you. I have an enormous tea with a fruit salad (and a freddo and a lollipop), served to me by a grumpy little Asian girl. I don’t know who took the jam out of her donut. Probably any of the thousands of cranky travellers who’s flights are delayed and are now paying 18 dollars for a stale sandwich with unknown ingredients jammed inside. I attempted to stare into her eyes with love, however she didn’t look up long enough to notice. I soon realised I was just hovering around awkwardly. Not a terribly effective way to spread the love of Jesus.

I’m sitting by the window where the enormous weather barometer outside tells me it is 11 degrees. I, in my stockings, thermals and woollen dress with a jacket over the top would certainly agree. I am cold. Apparently it’s 0 degrees in Canberra.

“Prepare for snow” I was told. Ha.

Of course in the only two weeks I would go to Canberra it would snow. In May! Who lives in such a place. I might die of cold. Just so you know.

In front of me is the most adorable family. One of those ‘perfect’ families. I hear what your saying. “They don’t exist”. They do my love. They do. And this family in front of me is one of them. The mum is blonde and trim. She is wearing a sexy parker with a fur hood. The dad is a fit looking business man wearing jeans, sneakers a stylish jacket. Their two children are around 12 and 13 are playing nicely together on their ipods. Occasionally the Dad looks over and makes affectionate comments to his son, who laughs with his Father. The bombshell wife and sexy perfect Father share a healthy salad wrap together after which she gets her toothbrush and goes to brush her teeth brushing her finger affectionately on his back as she leaves. Seriously adorable. I am pretending that I am very busy and important while typing this letter to you while really I wondering how they have set such a beautiful culture of love in their family. It really is profound. I want to go up and tell them however I don’t want to give away the fact that I have been staring at them this whole time as opposed to “writing very important emails” and on direct mission to visit Oprah.

The gentleman behind me is clearly a pilot. In fact he looks and talks a lot like Rob Majetic. For those of you who don’t know Rob, he is the only pilot in our lives. He is a trim, say it how it is Croatian who keeps fit by ‘street fighting’ which apparently is a legal sport. So as you know my perception of pilots might perhaps not be able to be applied to the general population. Even so I think I could pick a pilot a mile away. Even without their uniform. They have a certain air about them. They walk straight and are always trim. Anyway a young cute boy approached him and said he would love to be a pilot one day and could he ask him some questions? Bless! Mr Pilot said “pull up a chair.” That than launched into this gorgeous spontaneous mentoring session where Mr Pilot shared some words of wisdom about his life as a pilot and the pros and cons. Than cute little adolescent brought his brother and his brother’s girlfriend to meet his new friend Mr. Pilot. It actually was adorable. In the end Mr. Pilot gave cute adolescent his number scribbled on a napkin and said to call him anytime with questions.

Goodness me between perfect good-looking loving blonde family and the exchange between Mr Pilot and cute adolescent I feel like I’m swimming in a river of love here at the Melbourne airport.

Further glory

I am however brought back to reality as my phone receives yet another notification that my plane is delayed yet another hour and a half. So my voyage from Darwin is set to take nearly 7 hours all up. Seriously, living in Darwin is like living in another country. And we have crocodiles. I don’t feel like I’m swimming in a river of love anymore. More like a river of inefficiency. Is it Virgin? How come this never happens to Qantas?

I have pulled my laptop out again and am now sitting at my gate in the massage chairs. Next to me is a gorgeous young lady wearing a fur vest. She looks incredible. I’m smiling at her every time she looks at me, hoping to engage in conversation. She is underwhelmed at my friendliness. I’m from Darwin okay? I don’t get out much. Plus I am also incredibly bored and lonely. Why doesn’t she want to chat? I think I’m coming on too strong.

On another note the Stylish young Asian in the seat across from me is wearing snow white shoes (my favourite) and is sporting a Loui Vuitton carry man bag. Now that is glorious. I wish I could secretly take a photo to show you. Ahhh these people know excellence and how to travel well.

I love him. I even love his over the top Mohawk.

Perhaps he’s a movie star? Or a singer perhaps? Although why would he be going to Canberra? I’ll see if he sits in business class. Maybe he will be singing for the Politicians? I hear they have a huge sitting this week. Who knows what goes on in the governmental seatings.

Okay its 20 minutes till our three hour delayed flight is boarding. I think it is almost finally time to board. Thank goodness. While it is mildly (exceedingly) annoying for me, there are several children here getting pretty cranky. The poor mum is trying to pacify her crying one year old baby. Another one is trying to keep her hoard of four children sane as they continually ask when they are boarding. Goodness she is more patient than I am. The children aren’t the only restless ones. The grownups are so keen to leave that an eager beaver line is already forming even though they haven’t called or opened our gate for boarding yet. I am constantly confounded by how eager people are to board. They know that the plane can’t take off till everyone has boarded right? Just saying.

So that’s the first six hours of my travel. Inside my three hour delay at Melbourne airport.

Touch base once in Canberra if my digits aren’t necroed from frostbite I will write again,

Update from Canberra

Just so you all know the well-dressed Asian did indeed fly first class. So clearly he was a rich movie star/Singer on his way to Canberra to perform for the politicians at their important parliament seating this morning.

Double Update

The poor mother nursing the one year old suffered her first poo explosion on the plane. It was a poo explosion similar to atomic bomb as it went through her jacket and her shirt underneath. Just what I’m sure she felt like after a three hour delay with a cranky baby. I learned this as we were the last two to exit the plane. Poor mother could not summon the strength to get out of her chair to leave. I repent. While I was having an indulgent pity party that I was being mildly inconvenienced.

Solo traveling mother was nursing a screaming one year old, suffered a poo explosion that propelled poo all through her clothing causing her to have to discard them in the small aeroplane toilet.

She than managed to change screaming baby on the miniature change table of the aeroplane built for baby midgets and sit shivering in her undershirt for the remainder of the plane ride. I repeat. I repent for being even mildly annoyed for myself that my flight was delayed.

That’s all for now.

You are deeply loved and richly cherished,

Christine Greenwood

The Healthy Hiccup

Related Posts

2 thoughts on “Letters to my Husband – Part 1 – Delay (Canberra)

  1. Fleur Williams says:

    Hey there Christine, Please go into stand up comedy. This was priceless and made my day!!! Hey if you get this twice please forgive. I’m a grandma that’s not that flash at this stuff. Hahaha.

  2. Mutti says:

    Absolutely your best piece yet. I giggled all the way through. Hilarious.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.