But no, seriously, this is the granddaddy of stories.
I'll try and keep it factual and not get into too much detail of the anxious, wild, crazy, insane frenzy Saturday held.
My parents were due in at 8:15 a.m. on Saturday morning. FABULOUS. I'll get out to the airport (30 miles out of town), be there to pick them up, and literally bring them door to door HASSLE FREE. Kink one- I get an e-mail that my parents plane from GB was grounded due to fog. They were on a bus to Chicago to catch a new plane that had them stopping in Paris but would eventually be in Rome only 4 hours later at 12:15 p.m.
I was thankful to get the e-mail, but still kind of nervous. This changed things. I got their new flight number as well as company, but I hadn't heard directly from them. Still, I went with this new plan and set off for the airport at 11:30.
This should've been easily accomplished, but what in my life EVER goes smoothly and action free? I got to Rome Termini trainstation at approximately 11:47 to catch the 11:52 train out to the international airport. I SPRINTED like I haven't sprinted since high school a full 800 meters to catch that train. Once on, yea I was sweating, but it was worth it.. these are my parents!!!!!
Alright, Rome airport is huge.. I mean.. incomprehensibly large. I still muddled through a 100 terminals and found their arrival. I was at their baggage claim at approximately 12:25 p.m. Perfect, right?! They'd be getting their luggage and all would be well.
I waited, and waited, and waited. 1:00 rolled around.. no parents. 1:45 rolled around.. I hadn't taken my eyes of their gate. I probably noticed lint balls rolling on the ground, yet still no sign of my parents. I was starting to get this lurching sick feeling in my stomach. You're kidding me.
(May i interject fatal mistake number one- I had made them no back up plan. I guess in my mind they would never need it, so why would I arrange an emergency metting place, or give them the name, address, and phone to our hotel? That's hog wash.. and only for the highly prepared.)
2:00 p.m. I break into the restricted area. There are huge frosted glass doors separating the baggage claim and those allowed to wait for the people at the arrival gate. I went in the out and weaseled through. I was immediately flagged down by the polizia, which I just explained with tears in my eyes.. Just let me look. Give me one minute. This just can't be. They did, naturally, how can you say no to a crying foreigner?
My head was spinning and I was growing an ulcer the size of a grapefruit. I cuold hardly breathe, let alone think. They are here. Somewhere in this travelling abyss, wondering where I AM. Do they think I deserted them? Did they get in a cab? Are they trying to get somewhere? are they roaming around?! I can't tell you the thousands of thoughts that were racing through my mind. A taxi would easily cost them 150 euros (which they had no way of knowing).. I had had HAD to find them.
I felt a bit like the lab rats I use to work with in college. Plop 'em in, watch 'em flounder. This was ROME INTERNATIONAL. Needle in a hay stack..
3:00 p.m. I'm at Alitalia. They refuse to disclose if my parents were on the flight. Confidentiality. They send me to customs. No help there, confidentiality. I get sent to the police.. even they, the law offer me no help. Information, no help.
3:15 I get on a train headed back to Rome (30 minute ride).. I'm freaking out. Maybe they tried to get in and were at our hotel, I had no idea where to start. With no cell phones and no meeting point I was up a serious creek without a paddle in sight.
I started to whimper things at an Italian man next to me, about how horrible my situation was (wah,wah,wah).. but seriously though, I was sick to my stomach naseous with where my mom and dad were. Somewhere, yet no where. He was friendly and gave me his phone. I got a hold of our hotel which said, 'no, unforutnately your parents haven't arrived.' This sent a wave of clarity (horrible, anxiety ridden clarity) that my parents would wait. They would simply stay and wait. I knew it was true.
3:30 I am off the train in the middle of no where crossing platforms to go back out to the airport.
3:45 p.m.- I go to the information desk. This HAS to happen often. What is the protocol? I'm crushing skulls. Fighting back tears I did my best all business approach. Nope, nada. NOTHING.
4:00 pm. back to Alitalia. A nice woman with kind eyes. That was all it took. Her eyes. They were silent keys to the flood gates. I blubbered how I just needed to find my parents, they were from the states, we had no back up plan, it wasn't my fault, I was here on time, I just wanted things to be perfect, I need to find them, I need to know they're here... One thing after another.
And she helped. By some power this woman was okay with breaking the highly kept golden rule of confidentiality. Your parents name? Their past flight?
.... No, they never boarded the 10:00 -12:15 Paris to Rome flight.
And I thought my stomach had dropped that they were HERE somewhere. Now it was officially at my feet. If they aren't HERE, WHERE are they?????!
I was trembling, not gonna lie. Not a sane thought going through my head. I was phone less, helpless, and bordering on a good solid melt down.
Actually, it appears your parents were on the 2 p.m. Paris to Rome. Their flight is landing as we speak.
A whole new procession of crying... 'you're the only person who was nice to me, can I hug you? I want to hug you.. No? Okay, well.. thank you, GRAZIE. GRAZIE' And I'm not kidding you, I would've thrown all the money I had at her, kissed her a thousand times, and thanked her for saving me from being taken out in a stretcher.
During this whole time period I was testing the kindness of humanity. I failed to mention that I was calling our hotel NON STOP every 15 minutes using RANDOM people's phones. Almost everyone was Italian, and many couldn't speak a lick of English. But they got it. 'Mom, Dad.. this number'. And handed me their phone, over and over and over...
When my parents walked through that gate at 4:35 p.m. I was so thankful and happy and exhausted that a new wave of tears found their way to my eyes all over again.
At this point, I had no idea how lucky I truly was. My dad's itinerary folder had been left on the plane. They were without the information of our hotel, without a point of contact, and had NO idea if I would've figured the puzzle out and would be meeting them... Now THAT would've been one heck of a crapstorm.
Thank goodness for perspective. And family. Thank goodness for that. Because family is the only thing that could make me go absolutely ulceratingly INSANE for 5 long (some of the longest) hours. And give me the persistence and will power to get it done. I got it done, some how, some way.
Our arrival pictures.
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