*yawns and stretches*
Alrighty, now where did we leave off? Oh, curating the perfect storm, mhm.
By Memorial Day weekend I fully felt all the stress of these (poor) decisions. My bridesmaid dress, that I KNEW would need alterations had just arrived a few days before, and I had not one option for a seamstress. (Shoutout to my village for helping me look) I still had to order my shoes. I knew
I would be doing my own hair, but that meant I was about to take down these knotless braids and prep my NATURAL hair to be slicked down into a ponytail… in June… in Georgia. (Ya’ll weren’t praying foreal.)
And no, no I did NOT have a dress for my dad's official day service at convocation. So glad you asked.
Oh! I forgot to mention how we scheduled travel. Ready? I scheduled my flight to arrive to ATL on June 18th, from there we were going to drive to South Carolina where convocation was happening. I’d be there for 2.5 days, see all my family, etc. and then I’d fly out Friday evening from South Carolina back to ATL, and then drive to Alpharetta for the wedding the very next day. I’d linger in ATL for another day or two to “rest”, and then be back in Memphis by Monday night, just to go back to work on Tuesday.
Anybody else having a panic attack right now? Mhm.
Now at this point, my village fully knows that I have all of this on my schedule and have hopped in to help me think/plan to execute this to the best of my ability. One of my girls stopped me the week before I was leaving, to help me create a “to-do” list, and my goodness it was such a godsend. By Friday, I found my full outfit for official day, bought all hair supplies and grabbed all travel essentials. My brain started settling down, and I felt like I was getting what I needed done. Whew. Yeah… no.
Alrighty, Wednesday morning my flight was scheduled to leave at 5 am. Do you think I went to sleep that night before? Of course… of course I didn’t. “Oh, I’ll just sleep on the plane.” Headess. Like girl, you are entirely too old for this. Anyhow, my cousin dropped me off at the airport at 3:40, I breezed through TSA (I love Memphis’ airport, truly), and waited at my gate to board. Got off the first flight, had a layover in Chicago for about an hour, then got on my flight to ATL. Landed safely, got bags, waited for my brother who was flying into ATL as well, and then our family retrieved us from the airport. From there we drove 4 hours to SC, and had just enough time to change, reset and get to the night service. But what was I doing? Trying to complete a discussion board for a class I’m taking at my church. Mhm, I know baby… I KNOW. It's CLEARLY crack.
But you know what happened? We walked into service that night, and suddenly I was in the best family reunion. ALL of my people were there, we were greeted with lingering hugs that weren’t rushed, and my heart was overflowing. The icing on the cake? Right at the front, were my chicken nuggets, my babies, my children, the parents. Once they saw us, the hugs lasted for a lifetime, like no one else was in this very crowded room. But when you all live in different states, these moments matter, so we didn’t rush.
Let me jump to Friday so I can finish this chile. Official day, baby… your girl was a nervous wreck, I mean undone in my soul. Not only was it my dad’s big day, but I also had to be fully packed to get on the road AS SOON as the benediction would be announced. We had to be in position at 8:30
that morning. My brother and I rode to the civic center, and because he knows me, he just grabbed my hand; I immediately exhaled while fighting tears. We got in the room, and I was instantly ushered to the very front row, seated right behind my father.
*Whew TOW UP*
We got through all the formalities, and then it was time for service to begin. Now, here’s where the anxiety came back in. We KNEW that official days usually last about 45 hours. I’m kidding, but they’re definitely no shorter than 4 hours long. And this year baby, we were starting at 11 am… we ended
up running an hour late… I was 1.5 hours away from the airport… and my flight was leaving at 7:40 PM. You can do the quick math, it’s okay.
So, while I’m sitting on the very front row, I’m now in all my flight apps trying to see if there’s any later flights out that I could switch to… of course not; I had to make this one if I was going to be in place
for this wedding. And do you know that we did not say “Amen” until almost 5 o’clock?
I wish I was joking. I RUSHED to give all my family members hug, say bye to all of my loved ones, and race out the door so my brother could try to get me there in decent time. (That hurt, I won’t
lie.) Now… if you know big Grizz, you know that I got the speech of a lifetime about people pleasing, and saying no ALLLLL the way to the airport, but he also knows I’m trying to retrain my brain in this season.
Anyhow, I made it to the airport in perfect timing, still in my convocation dress and accessories, the attendants got me in and out of TSA, and I waited at my gate for about 30 minutes before boarding. I made it to my flight, we got to ATL safely, and I had enough time to get a bussdown honey hot
wing with fries in the airport while I waited on my friends to retrieve me.
Ya’ll I HAVE to stop here. Don’t cuss me out. Part 3 next week, I swear.
This is just so much to process through.
Talk soon,
Racq