It's Not Over Yet...

I received an email from my parents this morning, with the following increadible story:  they boarded their plane in Israel at midnight on Sunday night.  At some point early in the flight a man sitting in First Class complained of feeling ill, and subsequently died, on the plane.  The plane landed in Frankfurt, Germany, so that the incident of the man's death could be investigated;  the other (alive) passengers had to leave the plane, reclaim their luggage and rebook their flight.  My parents were then supposed to have a 12-hour delay in Germany, but the tarmac had to be de-iced.  By the time they worked out the ice problem, the pilot and crew were not allowed to fly because it had gone into overtime, and negotiations ensued with the International Pilots' Union.

Last I heard from my mother, they were still stuck in Germany, two days after they were meant to arrive in Boston.

That seems like a lifetime ago, that they visited us in Israel.  Tonight, when I took Raphaela to her swim class, I half expected to see my parents to sitting on the side and watching.  When I picked up Raphaela from Gan, I was bursting with pride because my daughter produced her first crayon scribblings, and I wanted to bring her artwork over to my parents to show-and-tell.  I regret that it took Raphaela two weeks to warm up to her grandparents, and then they left.

I do hope my parents recover from the supposed convenience of international travel, and arrive home safely and swiftly.

Today I did something extraordinary, for literally the first time since Raphaela's birth:  in the afternoon, while she was still at Gan, I received a full-body massage for an hour and a half.  I did not use that time to work, but rather to treat myself nicely, and to relax without feeling like I should be helping someone else, or planning for Raphaela.  If I can now figure out how to return to my running and exercise regimen, all the better.