Wednesday, March 30th - the day I realized that Wilson’s passport had expired March 21st. Nine days previously. We were leaving for Paris on April 1, 2022. This is NOT an April Fool’s joke. It was the strangest chain of events; typically I don’t even pull the passports out of my file cabinet until the day I am leaving; getting all the pertinent documents together, writing notes for the dog sitter, etc. But for some reason, I pulled them out and happened to glance at Wilson’s picture (where he looked very young!) and glanced at the dates - 3/21/2022. I had to think a minute (covid made time weird for some reason)… omg. It was expired. We were supposed to leave for Paris in 48 hours with Wilson and his friend, Ari. We had checked all of the boxes around Ari getting his passport, covid cards appropriately stored, the French paperwork all filled out for Delta, but somehow I just assumed Wilson’s passport was still fine - wasn’t it just a couple of years ago we had it made? Unfortunately, it was true, and my heart literally sunk and my eyes welled with tears knowing this likely would keep us from traveling to France. I allowed myself a moment of despair and then burst into action. Google. Google. Google. What do I do when I’m traveling soon and passport has expired? Expedited passport? The first call I made was to a 1-800 number at the US passport agency. After being asked a series of recorded questions about my travel dates, etc., I finally got a person. I somehow felt relief about this - surely this person would understand and fix it for me. Government agencies have changed in the time of covid, however. You cannot go to a passport agency in this situation without an appointment - they won’t even give you the address of the location to go to until you have secured an appointment. Ok. Great. Let’s book an appointment. She says to me - I’m very sorry, ma’am, but the only appointment I have is at 11 am tomorrow in Honolulu. I laugh a bit - oh, I’m in Atlanta I say. Yes Ma’am I know. You said that. But the only place I can get you an appt is Honolulu tomorrow morning. As I try to wrap my head around this and say to her - “surely there’s another way”..what about those expedited agencies. No, ma’am. There is no other way. she then promptly hangs up on me. She must deal with this all. day. long. My questions were just blah blah blah blah to her. My long awaited vacation meant nothing to this person on the other end of the line.
I took a deep breath and called Delta. Fortunately, I have access to the diamond line which gets me to a person more quickly…. the woman starts reading some information she has about a child traveling with a birth certificate, blah blah blah…I respond - “are you sure you’re looking at international travel to France?” If that were the case, no one would bother getting a passport for their kid…..this didn’t sit well with me…I didn’t quite believe her (luckily). Back to the passport agency number. I get another person. Same story. Honolulu. Now 1030 or 11 am are options - thank goodness; TWO Honolulu options! I get on Delta and Kayak - could I even make this happen? What if I flew to Honolulu with Wilson JUST to get the passport? Nope - couldn’t even logistically make it happen. Most flights sold out and even with THREE airport connections - the timing wasn’t right. Couldn’t even GET to Honolulu in time, let alone get back in time for our flight to Paris at 10 pm Friday night. It was 6 pm Wednesday. What else? What else? I call Kenya (Wilson’s friend’s mom) and tell her the sad and increasingly real situation….she says - don’t give up. We are going to make this happen. Options included - calling senators, the French consulate (they opened 8 am the next day). Kenya says - “I have sorority sisters that can make this happen”… I believe her - the freaking power of women on a mission!!!
I call Delta again. This time I get the very sobering news that this is NOT happening. EVEN IF the Delta agent were to let us through, there was a high likelihood that the French officials, upon arrival, would refuse us entry. At this point, Delta would be on the hook to put us on the very next airplane back to the US at THEIR expense even if they had to kick someone else off the flight. I’m sorry ma’am, but your only option may be to go to the French consulate and get some type of override; I’ve seen it happen before, but I have no idea how. Somehow I was worried I might not be French enough (45% according to 23 and me..lol) or have the right connections to pull this off. No matter - still an option.
I sat back in my chair and knew I had to get creative. What to do. what to do. I have been planning this trip for months; much care (and money!) had gone into picking JUST the right airbnb, planning events that would appeal to 14 year old boys AND adults, making reservations, etc. I HAD purchased travel insurance, and I pulled up the policy to see the conditions. I had done this in case of covid situations, but did it cover “stupidity around passport expiration”?… I continued to mentally beat myself up over this part which was a waste of energy. I pushed that to the side and saw that the policy covered “trip cancellation” - I figured I could probably fall into that category, BUT I did NOT want the insurance payment. I wanted to go to Paris. The boys were excited, I was excited, and we needed this time off and time together. Think. Think. Think. My anxiety level was high and was not helped by the Sudafed I was taking for the sinus infection from which I was currently recovering. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest and the weight of the world on my shoulders. I called the 1-800 number at the passport agency again. and again. and again. Kenya and Robb were also calling - I was shocked at how many agents there were… I don’t know how many calls later, but the guy says in a monotone voice - I have an appt at 730 am tomorrow in Miami. (They had told me that cancellations did happen). I don’t know why this person had cancelled their appointment and certainly never will, but I am grateful out of my mind for them. I immediately said - I will take it! In the back of my mind, I was thinking, surely I can make this happen even if I have to make a 12 hour drive. (that’s about how much time I had at this point). He begins to go through the documents required and one is a notarized form from Wilson’s dad saying it’s ok for me to get the passport without him present. (Passports for kids require both parents to avoid one parent stealing a kid and taking them out of the country). What are the odds that he would be home and available to sign? Alas he was. As was Wilson because his soccer game had been (surprisingly) cancelled at the last minute. Had they been out in the suburbs at this game instead of 4 blocks away, I’m pretty sure this would have been impossible just time-wise. Thank you universe.
Notary. Notary. It’s now 7 pm. Where can if find a notary? I send out texts to various people, and savior of all saviors, I realize one of my friends IS a notary, she lives close by, and is willing to go to Wilson’s dads and get the form notarized. Hallelujah! Passport pictures. I call CVS - yup, they can do them. Somewhere in here, I have told Wilson about the situation (he’s at his dad’s house). I want him to understand there is a chance we may not be going. I shoot him a quick text and say - get an overnight bag packed, we’re going to Miami. Flights. Flights. I hop on Delta and there are two flights that night - 945 and 11:45. I do some quick math in my head - CVS, Notarized form, pack a bag, drive to airport, security…better go with the second one. In the meantime, Kenya has also moved into action and is driving to a friend who is a notary to take care of it. I’m able to stop that long drive midway…thank you LIZ! I race to pick up Wilson and the notarized form, head to CVS, get the pictures - grab a granola bar because oh yeah, I haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast and am feeling the adrenaline and lack of food making me a little dizzy.
We make it to the airport….the security line is looonnnggg. I don’t usually fly out of Hartsfield-Jackson this late, and I discover that only the main security line is open at this hour. No Clear. No TSA precheck. Just that long endless line where you have to take everything out of your bag, shoes off, etc. I check my watch. We’re fine. We make it through in about 45 mins, head to the sky club for a quick glass of wine and a snack and get to our gate just in time for boarding.
It’s late. We’re exhausted. and in this moment I think to myself - can this happen? IS this happening? I mentally check the documents in my bag, birth certificate, MY ID, notarized form, passport pictures, Wilson’s expired passport, MY passport and birth certificate (JUST IN CASE). OH wait - I don’t have a hotel OR a car at this point. While on the runway, I book both from my phone. I failed to mention all of the flights to Miami were sold out. We were flying to Ft Lauderdale. This meant, when I landed at 1 am, I had to get in a rental car and drive about 40 minutes to my hotel that I had booked near the passport office. We arrived at 2:40 am to that hotel. Wilson had been sleeping off and on as had I on the airplane. He immediately fell asleep. I washed my face, did some deep breaths, and passed out for 3.5 hours until my alarm went off at 530. We were going to leave EARLY even thought the passport center was 9 minutes away. We had come too far to be late - they were very insistent that people needed to arrive on time. We head off at around 650 for the 730 appointment. Thank goodness we did; there was a lot of construction in the area, detours, I took a wrong turn and wound up miles away. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. We make it there at 720 - the parking situation is not obvious. We park at the Checkers across the street and figure we will deal with it if the car gets booted. (it did not)
After lines and security checks and waiting and sharing of documents, she says to me - come back between 12 and 1 for the passport. Naturally, I had booked an 11:45 am flight home from Ft Lauderdale in an attempt to get Wilson back to school and a tutorial he needed to do after school. That wasn’t going to happen. Email teacher. Email school. Get on Delta app. Book 5 pm flight. Upgrade to first class with points - YOLO. Wilson had expressed to me that this whole thing was super fun - LOL. He LOVED receiving the text from me - pack your bag, we’re going to Miami. At the time I told him - you realize we aren’t going to the beach, right? We’re going to do some administrative work, we won’t get any sleep, and it’s not going to be fun. He laughed and was like - this is great, I love to fly, and I don’t have to go to school. I love that kid and his attitude, and in that moment, now that I could breathe, now that we were getting soooo close to making this happen, I smiled and thought - let’s make this a little fun. We have 4-5 hours to kill. We drove to south beach, had a delightful breakfast sitting outdoors. I noticed the warm, humid, breezy air. I smelled the sea. I tasted the delicious avocado and eggs and green smoothie and coffee and breathed. The breath is powerful and remarkable, and I FINALLY felt my blood pressure lower. We walked over to the beach, rented some chairs from the hotel (60 more dollars, but at this point…..), lathered up Wilson with sunscreen we had purchased from a local hotel lobby, and promptly passed out. Wilson set an alarm, I set an alarm, and a couple hours later, we walked back to the car, toasty and warm and relaxed from the sun, and headed back to get the passport.
That process took about an hour or so, and by 2 pm we were headed back to Fort Lauderdale for the return trip home with Wilson’s BRAND NEW passport in our hot little hands. I thought about taping it to my body somewhere…….. WE HAD DONE THIS SHIT. I literally couldn’t even believe it. We had also had a lot of laughs (and a few tears) along the way…. I thought about what a wonderful privilege it was to BE ABLE to do this, to spend this ridiculous time with Wilson (teenager time is so fleeting), and to be getting home in time to pack, work (I had bumped so many Thursday meetings to Friday), and head out the next evening. Alas, it wasn’t to be quite that easy……
Our 5 pm flight was delayed, but finally we boarded the plane, settled into our first class seats, and promptly fell asleep. What a hectic, sleepless journey this had been! We taxied out, sat there, sat there. Finally the pilot came on and said - well, there is some weather across north Florida…Wilson and I looked at each other and said “of course” (this had become our mantra as one little thing after another TRIED to get in our way…) and, we have to taxi back to the gate to get new flight plans taking us around the storm and refuel for the longer flight. Sigh. OK. I’m mentally doing the math - if we don’t take off, and I rent a car, I can drive the 10ish hours to Atlanta (even though I was two glasses of wine, one .5 xanax and 3 hours of sleep in two days…) and we will still make it.
We refuel, get the flight plans, taxi back out….again, the pilot. In an aggravated voice, he says - well, folks, we are headed back to the gate. There’s a passenger on board demanding to get off the plane, and in these situations, we have to let them off. WTF??? This was a thing? Someone can just say they want off and the rest of us are screwed? Apparently. Anyway, we go back - everyone is angrily eyeing the aisles trying to figure out who it is… In that moment, I reminded myself to be compassionate - I have no idea what could be up. It could be a health issue, it could be terror (I don’t love to fly so actually I understand this one a bit)..I would never know. As the situation evolved, many passengers were missing their connections in Atlanta, so about half the plane decides to deplane. I ask the flight attendant- do you think this plane is leaving tonight? She says she thinks so. Passengers are asking about the pilot and crew “timing out” - maxing out the hours they can be in air and then unable to fly to ATL. The pilot announces that this is his first leg and he could, technically, fly all night long…. not that any of us wanted that, but nice to know.
The flight attendant starts serving drinks and snacks….we’ve been sitting on this plane for almost 4 hours at this point. FINALLY, we take off around 9:30 pm - 5 hours after we boarded. We make it home to Atlanta, to our car, drive to our house, and are in bed around 12:30 am.
Robb looked at me in awe and said, “can I do anything to help you”? He had been saying this for the last 24 hours or more as he watched this ridiculous scenario unfold…… and he HAD certainly been helpful and supportive throughout the process - so grateful for that. He actually tried to pack for me…..lolol…. I don’t recommend this. I was heading to Miami and he had thrown in the heaviest sweatshirt I own. This gave me a good giggle.
As I snuggled into my bed, I again took a deep breath and said - “We’re going to Paris”. I had a moment of overwhelming gratitude that the stars had aligned. I had a moment of realizing I HAD DONE THIS with the help of so many people and the universe along the way. I DIDN’T GIVE UP. At one point right after I discovered the expired passport, I put my head down on my desk and sobbed. I felt helpless and hopeless. Then I remembered who I was. Then Kenya said - oh we’re gonna make this happen. Then Liz said - I’m there for you sister. Then Robb hugged me and said you’re amazing. I remembered I can do really hard things. I remembered I have the drive and will to make magic happen. I’m carrying this with me forever. This will be a story Wilson and I will tell forever. I don’t know if he realizes what an unbelievable mountain we climbed, but he will remember how fun he thought it was - hahahaha. (This made me realize that sometime I just need to plan a quick getaway, text him pack your bag, and REALLY do something fun…not just a frantic quest for administrative paperwork ….)
WE WERE GOING TO PARIS. And here I sit writing this. In a gorgeous, out of this world, sun-drenched loft in the 11th arrondissement. We have been here about 48 hours, and already my heart is full of beautiful Parisian experiences, my belly is full of cappuccino and wine and crepes and croissants and macarons, my mind is full of the gorgeous French language, my eyes delight at the budding trees of spring in Paris, the sights, the sounds, the beautiful people, the fashion and design…. and I feel so very grateful. We had to work really hard to get here, and it’s all the sweeter as a result. More to come as the serendipity unfolds……….