On July 1, our family went to the airport mid-morning looking forward to traveling to the US to be with family and friends in Virginia and Pennsylvania. We had just traveled to Colombia a few weeks earlier, and we felt comfortable with this routine with three kids, backpacks, suitcases, and everything. Our turn came to check in and we pulled our crew and gear up to the counter. I gave the attendant our stack of passports, all bundled together in a rubber band and waited while he began to go through them.
The attendant asked about Miriam, a question we often get: Does your daughter have two passports? Yes, I respond and begin to explain as I often do. No, he says, I don't have her U.S. passport here.
What?! I panicked. Rebekah told me to calm down. But I couldn't think of where else it could be but in the stack of rubber band/passport bundle. We looked through my bags, Rebekah's bags, and tried to think as rationally as possible.
I remembered letting Miriam play with passports on the return trip from Colombia, and wondered if there was a chance it was left behind on the plane. She would have only presented the Nicaraguan passport coming back to Nicaragua. While Rebekah started to call back to our office to see if it was there, I hustled over to the airport information booth, where they redirected me to a Copa Airlines office. No luck on that trail.
I came back to Rebekah and two of our MCC members were on the search in Linda Vista. They couldn't find it at the office, and were hurrying over to our house. If they would find it, there would be enough time for one of them to bring it to the airport, but not enough time for us to go over and back before the flight.
I got a call from a neighbor. "There are two women going into your house, do you know anything about this?" I laugh a little. Yes, thanks for looking out for us, Jorge!
Rebekah tells me that they couldn't find it at the house in the closets, drawers, countertop, etc. Our last thought, other than the passport being simply lost, was to have them look in one of the small office safes. It would be unusual for it to be in this safe and our team members weren't able to get it open.
So among tears and suppressed emotions, I got in a taxi with Miriam and headed back to Linda Vista. I explained to her that we needed to get her little book for the airplane. She had her pack of "gummies" (fruit snacks) for take off on her lap. She opened it, but told me she was waiting to eat them until we were on the airplane. I told her she should go ahead; I would give her another pack.
We went to the office, opened the safe, and there, at the bottom of the pile inside was her passport. I gave Rebekah a call. We would need to reschedule the flight, but we at least wouldn't have to wait on the embassy to process a new passport. Rebekah sent me a picture of the empty seats on the airplane through WhatsApp, and they were off.
We rescheduled our flight for the soonest option with the same airline, two days later. Miriam and I spent the afternoon picking up a few things and groceries at the mall. Other than Miriam's sadness at bedtime, the rest of that day wasn't so bad, I guess.
And then I got sick. I'm not sure if it was related to this whole episode or if it was simply a virus (I learned later that Silas got sick too). The next 24 hours were slow and miserable hours at home with diarrhea and vomiting. I was unsure how traveling alone with Miriam the next day was going to go, but I was not about to miss that flight.
The next day I was feeling better, and Miriam and I went to the airport with lots of extra time to spare, just in case. There was no problem this time, and we enjoyed watching the planes come and go until it was our turn to board. Miriam got a new pack of gummies, and we were heading out.
We arrived in Miami and seemed to be on schedule to catch our connecting flight in Miami. We went on their shuttle train and made our way to Immigration.
As we came up to the Immigration area, we followed the lines down the hall toward the end. Unfortunately we never even found the end. Everyone was commenting that they never saw the lines this long. Eventually we got to a place where hallways came together and we merged into the line. I had WiFi access and started sending some messages to Rebekah and downloading the Global Passport app to see if I could jump over to a shorter line. But both the line I was in and the WiFi downloading were slow, and I was starting to be concerned about getting to our flight.
The line moved slowly, but it was moving. I started to feel optimistic, until we came up to the Immigration check-in kiosks and I saw just how many back-and-forth lines there were yet before we even got to the kiosks. At that moment, the App downloaded, I slipped out of line with Miriam, took our pictures, entered our information and scurried over to the other Global Passport line.
Sadly, these lines were hardly faster. I nervously watched the time and talked with other travelers. Rebekah had googled and sent me the gate information, and the others there seemed to think it might still be possible to get there in time.
Miriam had fallen asleep on my shoulder by the time we were called up to the official's desk. I presented our information, he asked about Miriam's mother, I explained, he approved. I started to run as best as I could with a sleeping baby, carry-on suitcase, and Miriam's backpack.
At security, I set Miriam down and she woke up as she started to fall over. She saw everyone taking their shoes off and immediately followed their example. The time for boarding had now passed, but the plane hopefully hadn't left yet. I sent a message to Rebekah saying that if she didn't hear from me, she should assume we made it on the plane.
We went through security, and took off running again. I asked a few people along the way for our gate. I got some blank looks and repeated my question in Spanish (it's Miami), got my answer and hurried along. I paused to walk at one moment because apparently I'm out of shape for running with a baby like this.
When we got to the gate, it was empty. As I was setting Miriam down I asked the lady at the desk if it was too late. "I'm sorry, the gate is closed," she told me as she pulled the tape from one post to another in front of me. No! I sunk down with Miriam on the ground on my knees. You've got to be kidding me. I asked again. Same answer.
In a moment of miraculous mercy, the second attendant at the gate asked if I was waiting on any other family members to catch up to me. No, just Miriam and me, I said. "I think we can let you get on," he said, and opened the door. I was so grateful.
I clumsily carried Miriam and our bags onto the plane, through the narrow aisle, and we sunk into our seats. Sweaty and panting, I pulled out my phone to send a message to Rebekah: "We made it." The message didn't go through. The plane pulled out and we were off.
We arrived in Philadelphia and there were Rebekah and my dad waiting for us.
It was great to be back together.
