I'm flying out of JFK to Hyannis, and take the subway to the airport. With my new rolling suitcase, it's so much easier than it was when I made the same trip last year.
For the past few years, I have randomly been pre-approved for check-in. This year I wasn't, and the line is long. Shoes off. Food in one bin. Computer in another. Coat in a third. Tote in a fourth. Plus of course my suitcase.
I finally get through and just want to put my shoes back on. The floors are filthy. I get to the gate with time to spare.
I'm making calls. Playing WWF. Reading the paper. And then I remember. Actually, then I don't remember — putting my computer back in my suitcase. I don't remember doing it because I didn't do it. And how easy it would be for someone else to pick up my computer from an unclaimed bin.
I race back to the check-in area. Speak to a security person. And fortunately they have my computer. I don't think I could have left had I not found it.
But I do find it, and I do leave.
Finally, I'm in sunny Cape Cod. I immediately feel more relaxed and less stressed than I felt in the city I left behind.
My mom picks me up.
We later play gin. I even win the first game.
Dinner's at my sister Jean's — she makes fresh sockeye salmon and haddock, caught just last week when my nephew and brother-in-law went fishing in Alaska.
And then I meet-up with my close friend M. She's renting a house for the summer, just minutes from my mom.
It may not be an exotic vacation, or even an adventuous one. But it's the exact kind of vacation I like. Friends. Family. Good food. Low maintenance. And the gorgeous Atlantic.
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