Yes, I’m acting like your Dad because I am concerned.

I flew to Florida this past Friday, I returned today, yet something bizarre happened at the airport while beginning the gruesome adventure that is called T.S.A.

I was in line, patiently waiting my turn to have my boarding pass scanned, so I decided to make one quick phone call to my mother and send a text message to my youngest brother. They both live in North Carolina, but in a different city. It is sometimes nice having a few of my immediate family members here as well, but… Sometimes, I’d like to just go back to being the only one here, but that’s another post for another day.

Suffice it to say, I am a bit of an anxious freak when flying. I do not fly well. I’ll repeat that I DO NOT FLY WELL. There is something so ill-fitting about being swooped off of the ground by a gigantic air-bus and hauled into the sky, scaling significantly past God’s breath, almost never-ending. But, I do so. For pleasure and for work. It is my necessary evil, victimizing me every chance it gets.

While I am texting my kid brother, I hear, “CODE BRAVO! CODE BRAVO!” I am stone. My fingers, although calculating each letter to send to The Kid, I bring them to an immediate stop. Remember when I said I get anxious about flying? Yeah, multiply your worst fear times 10 and you will have my stress level for today upon hearing this code as us civilians awaited access to our destinations & stood feverishly frantic… What’s going on? My inner child was questioning the T.S.A. associate sitting on the stool facing me, but my lips did not part (no Red Sea, here). Silence.

I am the eldest of seven. You may or may not have seen me mention this somewhere around the Medium-sphere, but if not, here you go. After I sent the first message to The Kid, he says, “Okay sis, love you and be safe.” Then Code Bravo graces us and my next text message to him is, “Love you too! Thank you! I don’t know what’s going on. They just called a Code Bravo while I’m waiting at TSA. The airport is in complete silence. Must be a security breach somewhere or something fishy going on.”

Why did I do this? At ten years younger than me, I am his responsibility. My care is of the highest importance, and it’s not just him, it is all four of my other brothers too. They have this need to shield me from danger. If they are not in the presence of it, Hell freezes.

But today, it did not. Hades was in rare form and my heart was thumping. His response to me is, “OH MY GOD! I hope everything is okay.” I play the big sister role, pull up my britches, tighten up my grip on the phone and explain to him that I am sure some form of protocol is being followed for an important reason and that I would text him as soon as I landed. This seemed to ease his mind. FOREVER LATER, my boarding pass is finally scanned and we all continued on through the endless waves of security.

One hour and forty minutes ticked on and I am finally in North Carolina. I call my Mom, text a few others, notify my other brothers, then send the very last text to The Kid. I tell him that I am headed home to pick up our Mom (who so selflessly agreed to watch my dog Jernee while I traveled), and he responds, “Okay, I am glad you made it back. Let me know when you make it to Mom’s house and back home, and yes, I am acting like your Dad because I am concerned.”

I am not one to be clocked. He said this because I usually tell them (them being all of the boys/now men), “stop asking me where I am going, who I am with, why I’m going to such and such and so and so, because I am grown and you are not my father.” But, today, I understood why he needed to know when I made it home. When I was safe…

I tied down the quip of my tongue and simply said, “I will.”

And, I did.

And, he appreciated the opportunity to keep watch over me from a distance.

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I’m more than breath & bones, I’m nectar in waiting — Owner ACG •Editor PSILY •Writing for the cosmos. •

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