As my memorial blog mentioned, my youngest sister, Heidi, passed away suddenly on April 24. Since she lived in Iowa, and three of my sisters live in Idaho and one lives in Oregon, we had to head out to Iowa for the funeral and memorial (both of which we missed due to scheduling conflicts). This trip was definitely a spur of the moment journey, and we were all under the impression that even though it was hastily planned, it would be relatively seamless. We were so very wrong about that.
Things started out normal enough: my two older sisters procured the airline tickets in record time, and we were all seated by one another on our first flight (Boise to Denver). However, upon looking at the departure time from Denver to Des Moines (our final destination), we discovered that we only had about 15-20 minutes to make our connection. We were concerned about this, but not terribly so, since we figured we could pull a "Home Alone" and sprint to the gate we were departing from. As we were waiting for our flight in Boise, we discovered that the flight was delayed initially for half an hour due to weather. Over time, the delay increased to close to an hour. That's when the panic set in. Our turnaround time to make our flight to Des Moines was severely diminished now, and we were not sure that we could make it. My oldest sister, who is by and far the most assertive out of all of us and therefore can make miracles happen, spoke to the airline representatives and explained our plight. Finally, our plane arrived, and once again, my sister appealed to the kindness of the flight crew in order to expedite the flight process as much as possible in order for us to make our connection. Thankfully, the weather was most cooperative and our flight arrived ahead of schedule. Much to our dismay, we sat on the tarmac for a who freaking FIFTEEN MINUTES while we waited for another plane to get the heck away from our gate. During this time, we found out that our connection was departing from the gate right next to the one we arrived at. Hallelujah! This joy was short-lived, however, as we were trying in vain to deplane in a rapid fashion (I don't know what the holdup was; we stood in the aisle forever waiting to deplane). As soon as we hit the jetway, I was off like a marathon runner. I don't think I have ever run that fast in my life. Anyway, I was barreling down the jetway like a woman possessed, knocking anyone over who was unfortunate enough to be in my way. My efforts were thwarted when I arrived at the adjacent gate and discovered that our connecting flight had already pulled away from the gate and was heading down the taxiway. I was chagrined, pissed off, and very out of breath (note to self: fat chicks should never run). Soon after my failed attempt to hold our connecting flight by pulling the pity card, my sisters joined me and I broke the news to them. There were many emotions shown due to this news: fury, sadness, and disgust. I personally felt like strangling someone, but refrained. Two of us plopped down into the incredibly hard chairs that the Denver airport had to torture waiting passengers. My two older sisters proceeded to the customer service line in order to see what could be done in order for us to be comfortable for the duration (approximately 16 hours; the flight we missed was the last flight out of Denver to Des Moines--SUCKY!!!!!). At first the airline was content to let us wait things out in the airport. When the airline reps told my oldest sister this, my sister darn near levitated over the counter. It was truly a sight to behold; I was very impressed at how she "handled" and persuaded the airline to give us a hotel voucher and three meal vouchers apiece for our troubles. Soon we were on our way to our hotel, which was decorated in modern art. The elevators were my personal favorite: they had four transparent squares on the floor with blue liquid that would squish around when stepped on. Our rooms were pretty nifty,as well. For those of you who are Harry Potter geeks like me, I must tell you that the bathroom sinks looked like Pensieves.
The next morning, we were back at the airport, some of us bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, others of us clutching cups of coffee and glaring at anyone who dared try to initiate a conversation with us. Finally, it was time to board our plane to Des Moines. We were seated all over the plane; I and my younger sister were in the very back next to the lavatory. Let me tell you, this was NOT pleasant. It was stifling, it was stinky, and I was seated next to a lady with a huge burrito in her carry on bag. The scent of that mingled with the odor of the airplane lavatory was horrible. Thankfully, I occupied myself with my crossword puzzle book and did my best to ignore the stench emanating throughout the back of the plane.
We finally arrived in Des Moines. I seriously don't think any of us were so glad to be on Iowa soil as we were that day. We proceeded to the rental car counters, where my older sister had reserved a car to take us from Des Moines to Fremont and Ottumwa, where we were all staying. Much to our chagrin, we discovered that since we missed our flight to Des Moines and therefore were not able to pick up the rental car as scheduled, they rental car reps cancelled our reservation and joy of all joys (enter major sarcasm here), we had no car. I think we all wanted to cry by this time, since we had pretty much gone through hell already on this short jaunt from Boise to Des Moines. After much scrambling, my oldest sister was able to secure a car after about an hour wait. We were thrilled! This feeling was short-lived, however, as the Des Moines area had changed significantly since I had been there three years ago, and I no longer knew how to get to the highway from the airport. My oldest sister had a solution: let's rely on the GPS on her I-Phone! Initially, this was a swell idea, for we thought that Fifi (the GPS) would guide us to our destination. We soon discovered that Fifi must have been on crack because she led us in a square which led us right back to Des Moines. What the heck???? It turned out that we were about 70 miles from the highway. We soon admitted defeat and called my sister in Fremont to guide us back to the highway, and therefore, to her home. A trip that normally would take about an hour extended to about three hours. By this time, I think we all were tired of traveling and more than a little disgruntled.
We all finally made it to our lodging places.......except for my two oldest sisters. They drove in to Ottumwa and tried to get a room at the AmericInn. They had ONE room, which I think had to be a honeymoon suite, because it only had one king-size bed and a jacuzzi, and only for $90! Pffft. The girls decided to nix that idea, and ended up at the Hotel Ottumwa, which, by the way, they discovered was haunted. This made their stay infinitely more interesting. I will not go into detail about their experiences at this time, but suffice it to say, they had a very unusual stay.
The remainder of the week went relatively smooth, until the day before we headed home. My two older sisters, my mom, and I had gone to a small town (Batavia) to look for relatives in the cemetery there. After we successfully located the graves we were searching for, we proceeded to head to Eldon to the site of my youngest sister's accident in order to place a roadside memorial. All of us were supposed to meet at the site at 4:30 pm, which, in my family, means anywhere between 5 pm and 7 pm. We thought that if we took a certain road in Batavia, it would lead us into Eldon and as a result, to the accident site. This was not to be. It was pouring down rain, and since my family is directionally challenged, we got lost on a dirt road (by this time, it was a mud road) in the middle of nowhere. Mom pointed out a field access road that we could turn around on and head back to the highway. Little did we realize, there were TWO field access roads; one was gravel, and one was grass and mud. As we are an adventurous kind of people, we took the grass and mud road. We attempted to turn around, and the mud tried to eat our car. We were stuck. Not just stuck, but buried up to the front hubs in thick, clay-like Iowa mud. We tried in vain to gain purchase in the slick, wet grass, but to no avail. We tried placing cardboard under the front wheels to give them a little traction, but when my oldest sister hit the gas, the cardboard went flying into the ditch (it got some pretty good distance, too). Next, we tried placing corn husks under the tires (we were facing a corn field....big surprise). This didn't work, either. However, the husks stayed put, though they were totally useless. We attempted to call Triple A, but we were in for a nearly two hour wait. Much as we love each other, none of us savored the idea of being stuck in a steamy car for two hours waiting for a tow truck to try to find us. Finally, we say some traffic on the road behind us. First, a big silver pickup flew by us, not even noticing a black Toyota sitting in a cornfield (we had slid fully into to cornfield by this time). This must be a common site in Iowa or something. A few minutes later, a black pickup pulled up and a man who greatly resembled Larry the Cable Guy alit from the cab and offered his assistance. Oh, how happy we were to see someone that cared enough to rescue three soggy women and one dry old lady! This man proceeded to lay in the yucky mud, hook up his tow chain (praise the Lord that he had one in the bed of his truck!) to our car and then to his truck. Within minutes, we were free! Oh, the joy and rapture that filled our hearts! We were on our way to Eldon to meet up with the rest of the family and caravan to the accident site to erect the roadside memorial.
On a more serious note, we all arrived at the site with the decorations in hand. My nephew built a beautiful cross for the site, and my sisters and I made a lovely silk flower arrangement and bought a solar-powered angel that would light up at night. It was still pouring rain during this time, but none of us minded at all. We placed the cross in the ground, and my baby sister's name, birth date and death date were written on the horizontal part of the cross. On the vertical part, we wrote, "Gone But Never Forgotten". After all the items were placed at the site, we all started to leave, but I called everyone back. There was one more thing we needed to do. Though Heidi (my sister) was not a particularly religious person, she still had a favorite hymn from church. As my final tribute to her, I began to sing "I Am a Child of God", shivering, crying, and trembling. The others joined in, and we sang to my beloved sister, one last time. After we finished that hymn, my older sister, Teresa, began to sing, "God Be With You 'Til We Meet Again". I joined in on the alto part, and soon we all sang the rest of that hymn. Finally, Heidi's daddy, Wally, concluded our memorial with a beautiful prayer. Not a dry eye was to be found on that lonely country roadside in Jefferson County, Iowa. We all headed back to our vehicles, wet, muddy, and broeknhearted at the loss of our sweet Heidi Alaura.
Us four older girls finally made it back to Boise on Wednesday, April 30. We had all pretty much held our emotions in check for the duration of the trip, but on our way back to Weiser, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let the tears flow unchecked as we headed home.
Though our trip back to Iowa was fraught with mishaps and sadness, we, as a family, were able to summon some humor from our experiences. I refrained from including ALL the details of our adventures in the interest of time and space. Suffice it to say, we did find the rainbow in the storm clouds that followed us as we coped with our loss.
Heidi, we miss you so much and know that you are in a far better place than those of us who were left behind. We are grateful that your spirit remains in our hearts forever, and that you inspire us to find humor in the most dire of situations. God be with you til we meet again, sweet girl.
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