Warning – wordy, likely rambly, message to follow…
So, this is maybe a question that can only be answered by
people who have flown. Possibly a subset
of people who have been on a plane who can say they have traveled… I don’t know – far distances? Extensively?
While leaving people you love behind?
A friend, and colleague, of mine and I used to talk about
this, but honestly never really got to the bottom of it. We agreed it was “a thing” – at least for us
– but never really could figure out the why.
Maybe there’s someone out there (I’m hoping maybe lots of someones) who
can help me understand.
The thing is this…
there is something about being on a plane that makes me far (like FAR
FAR FAR FAR) more emotional than I am in “normal” life. Case in point: I just finished watching a movie while on a flight
from Amsterdam to Atlanta. I’m 2 hours
into a flight that will take 8 hours and 45 minutes. I just cried big fat tears over a movie. I wiped tears – at first with a fingertip and
then later with the sleeve of my favorite LL Bean black fleece zip-up. The movie that made me cry big ugly tears was
about the life of a high school senior and his decision to “come out” as
gay. This is not a topic that
necessarily hits home or drudges up personal feelings. (Side note – my boys aren’t all of the age
where I know this won’t happen to them and want to make sure everyone
understands I was not crying because I was envisioning them in this
position. Whatever happens with my boys,
they will always be my heart. And there
go the tears again…)
OK – so the thing is, that this is not the first time I have
cried and cried over some movie on a plane.
Sometimes I don’t even need a movie or a cue of some kind to get really
emotional. I am not, as really anyone
who knows me would likely attest, an overly emotional person. Sure, I may be quick to get pissed about
something, but if you know me in real life, when was the last time you saw me
cry. I could tell you, but I’m not going
to in order to protect the innocent.
Let’s just say it hardly ever happens.
And yet, on a plane, I’m a weepy mess. Why?
Is it because of some kind of weird elevation issue? Is it possible that thin air makes me
emotional? Day drinking? (Yep…
I do it because travel sucks and 9 hours is a freaking long time to be
surrounded by people you don’t know who are mostly just annoying.) Is it being homesick? Goodness knows that accurately describes me
nearly EVERY time I’m on a plane – coming or going. Is it lack of sleep? Poor nutrition? Both of these are real. Both I attempt to control, but come on… it’s nearly impossible to have a routine when
you are away from home.
On this trip today I will surpass 91,000 Delta medallion
miles. I honestly have no idea what that
equates to in real miles, but for anyone chasing Delta status, you will know
it’s a lot. I have a routine. I have figured out what I need to be
comfortable. I know where I like to sit. I understand the process. But I still can’t figure out why I am
emotionally vulnerable as soon as the fasten seat belt sign comes on.
Does this happen to you?
Does it matter where you are going?
Who you are with?
I can tell you that when I am traveling for fun with my
family, I haven’t noticed this. I didn’t
cry heading on a plane to our anniversary trip last year with Bob. I’ve never once bawled on the way to a
Buckeye Cruise. Spencer and Quinn did
not have to deal with a sobbing mom on our spring break Europe trip. Maybe I’m lonely?
But then on this trip I made friends (shocking, I know…)
with the guy behind me AND the flight attendant working our section. Not like we are going to have dinner together
friends, but certainly to the point that I don’t feel like they wouldn’t help
me if there were an emergency. (Side
note – there is a weird thing that happens with passengers – unless they are
absolute shitheads – on a flight… it
becomes a little informal community where we are all in it together with a goal
of making things as comfortable – well maybe tolerable – as possible. I let the guy beside me use my table for a
minute. The guy in front of the older
woman lifts her bag for her. My neighbor
doesn’t mind holding my TRASH while the flight attendant works. When was the last time you saw someone
outside of an airplane offer to hold someone’s trash? It’s a weird little community, but it does
make things more… well more humane.
I know I’m rambling.
I’m just curious if this happens to other people. Have you ever found yourself inexplicitly
emotional while traveling? Lack of
oxygen? Or sleep? Or abundance of stimuli? Or alcohol?
Or is it just me?
(written on 7/28/18 while somewhere southeast of Greenland
on the way home after a really hard week in Scotland)
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