Hazel Ceej

Ever experienced being disoriented while traveling? It was not jet lag in my case. Fourteen hours on a Bangkok - London flight with additional whirl changing air crafts in the UAE, and I was strolling around Scarborough Castle early the next day. So the culprit was very likely the stress around my mutilated passport. A few minutes before deplaning in Manila, I learned that our pilot was a lady. I whispered wow as I recalled how the plane felt as if it was gliding playfully on its side through a forest like a merry fairy shortly after take off. And that takes me back to a sweet dilemma: PhD or learn to fly? So as I waited for my cocktail during this year's Valentine al fresco dinner with single friends, I fancied engaging both, but one at a time. Then the server came with my drink miffing me out of doctoral and helicopter reverie to a vision in sea green! You see I deliberately ordered Blue Hawaii for Sally, and what did I get? Ah well, at least the glas...

There's something about going up in the air. Some kind of high. I may have felt homesick watching the buildings grow smaller as the plane zoomed into space, but it's cool joy to welcome the normality of getting back to work. Thursday my passport was sorted. Suddenly I didn't want to think of Bangkok. I packed wondering when I can come back home. But then it's wonderful to see the end of this stress so of course this one tops my faves for the week. There was one final thing I did before dealing with airports and immigration. I went to see my old man. Back in 2005 I defied sorrow that only death could pull off by glaring at it in my mind dry-eyed throughout the burial ceremony. How dare you snatch my father, you massive coronary!  Fast forward to 2014. Holy Garden Matutum Memorial Park was breezy when we walked in. The kiddo insisted that his Tigger relaxed beside my anthuriums. It gets easier each year. Time does heal.     Less than thirty-six ho...