Pearce – “My stomach hurts. Maybe because I’m nervous. I feel like I’m going to cry. Not because I’m going to miss you but because my stomach hurts so bad.”
Me – “And because you’re going to miss me.”
Pearce- “Ok, yeah.”
I love this kid!
He’s leaving today for Vancouver to spend the next two weeks with his grandfather and aunt; from his father’s side. This isn’t his first time on an airplane, but he’s never flown alone before. He’s nervous. When he gets nervous, he gets very chatty. He’s going to miss me. When he knows this, he gets very cuddly. This is my baby, but he is longer a baby.
He’s two weeks away from his 13th birthday, so flying him as an “unaccompanied minor” was optional. Not choosing that option would mean him navigating the check in, security and boarding on his own from the Toronto end and then the additional responsibility of having to pick up his baggage on the Vancouver end. That process can be confusing enough for adults, I decided it would be best to go with the “unaccompanied minor” option.
We were just checking in his baggage and filling out the paperwork when he started feeling nauseous. I expected him to have this reaction, the combination of excitement and fear does that to most people. I smiled at him and continued to write.
My father and my sister joined us at the airport to see him off. They waited at a table with the rest of the family while we finished the check in process. I wanted a coffee, Pearce wanted a frappuccino, I picked us up some drinks while he hung out with everyone. I could see that my father was nervous too, and I knew it was killing my mother to have to be at work instead of saying goodbye.
For weeks, everyone has been talking about how nervous he would be. About how nervous they were. They questioned whether or not he would be able to handle a 5 hour flight on his own. Was he ready for this kind of responsibility? Would he cry? Would the takeoff and landing scare him? Nah. I knew he would be just fine.
Lincoln and Campbell were extra affectionate with their big brother today. Lots of snuggles, hugs, kisses and “I love yous.” There is something special about brothers, these are some of my favourite moments with them.
We said goodbye to everyone and the two of us lined up to go through security. As an “unaccompanied minor”, I am allowed to escort him to the gate and am required to wait until his flight takes off before I can leave the airport. He doesn’t have to figure out his own way, but I make him do it anyway. From this point on, he is responsible for answering all questions about who he is, who I am, where he is going and what time his flight departs. He places his belongings in the bin and walks thru the metal detector. I follow. I explain to him how the scanner works as we wait for our bags on the other side.
I hand him the ticket and tell him to find the gate number. He finds D39 quickly and I ask him to look up for signage. Pearce, like most children, gets distracted easily and is always just content to follow. I remind him of the importance of knowing where he is at all times. He points in the direction of the gate and then excitedly jumps onto the movator. We race walk the whole way, both of us laughing like children on a playground.
Next up, the washroom test. I have to go, he has to go. His hands are both occupied with a sweatshirt in one and his bag in the other. He reaches the arm with the sweatshirt out towards me and asks me to hold his stuff while he goes. Nope! I tell him he has to be responsible for his own belongings now. He starts to ask how he is going to be able to use the washroom with his hands full and then stops himself. He gets what I’m doing and smiles as he turns to walk inside. I walk over to the women’s washroom and when we are both done, we meet in the middle.
We get to the gate and there is still about a half hour before boarding. I tell him to follow me and he seems confused. He asks why we went all the way to the gate and now we are going back in the direction we came from. I asked him if he was hungry.
He tells me that he will eat on the plane. I ask him if there will be food. He can’t answer that. Neither can I, I didn’t check. He follows me to the store and gets a Gatorade and a bag of popcorn. I packed him two granola bars as well. He’s still feeling too nauseous to eat anything substantial.
He puts everything in his bag and slings it over his shoulder. I hold his sweater while he does this and we walk back to the gate. We talk about his bag. In it, he has food, spending money, his iPod, a couple random things and his passport and identification. The instructions are simple, you put your bag under the seat in front of you and take it with you if you have to use the washroom. The bag doesn’t leave your sight, not for a second. His iPod is in there, that’s how I ensure he will follow instructions. Pearce, like his mother, doesn’t go anywhere without his music.
We sit at the gate until they page him to the front. The attendant says “one final hug for mom and then we will take you in.” He gives me a kiss and a hug and says I love you with his face buried in my chest. I can hear that he is crying, and I start crying too. He holds on a little while and then lets go. I watch my baby walk away and he gets on the flight.
When I was his age, I wanted to leave and never look back. I dreamed about it every night.
I was 3 years older than him when I left home. 6 years older when I packed my belongings and bought a one way train ticket to the very place he is going. The following year, I found out I was having him.
I’m not nervous for him; I’m excited. I’m excited about what this means for him. It’s an opportunity for him to learn and to grow. A chance to be responsible for himself. To show him that not only is he capable of navigating life on his own but that I will always be available to guide him, should he ever need it.
One thing I know for certain is that I am his home. He doesn’t dream of leaving and never coming back. He leaves knowing that I will be waiting for him to return. I will always support his freedom, until the day he is truly on his own.
I sit and wait for the plane to leave.
And it does.
He’s growing up.
And miles to go before I sleep 