Surprise Multiplied

What would you say if your dear friend's husband asked if you'd be willing to fly thousands of miles to surprise her for her 50th birthday?

Yes, right?

Last Thursday night, I took a red-eye to Boston, so I could hide in the corner of a private room at the City Table restaurant when my friend Jess walked in to meet one of her family members for a drink. Little did she know she had a whole crew there to celebrate with her, friends from all different times of her life, who flew or drove to Boston to honor the birthday girl.

I scored points for traveling the farthest, a trip that was almost cut far too short, that could have ended on Turnagain Arm on my way to the airport.

Thursday night:  Blowing snow, darkness, no visibility. The icy road weaves between water and rock. The truck in front of me fishtails and then overcorrects...

Time slows and speeds up all at once.

...The truck does a full 360, smashes head-on into the mountain, flips on its side, as I break and swerve into oncoming traffic, as the tall vehicle behind me goes around us both in the breakdown lane and drives away. I creep around the corner without a safe place to stop. I check the rearview and see another pair of headlights approach the flipped truck. I call 911 and report the accident. I want to check on the driver. I don't want to pull over and cause a bigger accident. I can't see. I keep driving. I have a plane to catch. I feel like shit. I grip the steering wheel. I give my name to the dispatcher. I tell them I think the third vehicle back had time to stop behind the truck. I hope that car stopped. I didn't stop. I want to rewind and react faster. Pull over right after I swerved around the flipped truck. Run to the drivers rescue. I want to be the type of person who acts instead of freezes. Someone who embraces calm in medical situations instead of panic.

I hang up with 911 and head into Anchorage. I pass an ambulance and police car, sirens and lights ablaze. I pull into my friends' neighborhood, park in their driveway, and let out loud heaving sobs. I arrive at their door unable to speak.

My friend Pili hugs me until I find words.

At the airport, I scan the Seward Highway Traffic Report and learn the driver did not sustain life threatening injuries. The emergency crew closed the highway for a few hours. Truck possibly totaled, driver banged up, but the person will survive.

Relief mixes with shame, as I wait to board my flight.

A flight I would have missed if I stayed for the last quarter of Olive's basketball game instead of leaving after the third period. A flight I would have missed if I'd reacted faster and figured out how to pull over to help. A flight I would have missed if I'd reacted slower and hit the truck as it flipped. A flight I would have missed if a car had been driving towards me in the other lane.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep a wink on my redeye flight and arrived in Boston to a 70 degree and sunny day.

I met up with my other dear friend, Hannah, who also flew through the night from Idaho. We planned to nap at my friend Margaret's apartment but, considering we hadn't seen each other for fifteen years, we spent the afternoon reminiscing and sharing stories.

Two other friends met us at the apartment to get ready and we all rode together to the Lennox Hotel, arriving an hour before the guest of honor. As friends and family spilled into the City Table, we moved to the private room reserved for the occasion, anticipation mounting as Jess's arrival neared. Her husband, Brian, pulled off this feat of surprise with Jess believing she was meeting her parents for dinner at a nearby restaurant but stopping at the City Table first to meet a family member, who manages the restaurant, for a drink.

Jess walked into the room and saw her extended family first. Then she looked to the right where women from all walks of her life--from elementary school to high school to college to teaching in Ecuador--stood waiting to embrace her.

Jess cried, which meant we cried, and later, when she gave a toast, Jess declared the evening one of the best nights of her life.

How could I miss it?

And since I knew I'd be flying back to New England, when Brian first proposed the trip back in September, I thought, "What if I can surprise my parents too?"

I called my brother Andrew and asked if he could plan on being on Cape Cod the weekend of November 4th, to guarantee Mom and Dad would be home, and so I could see him too.

Well....

Turns out that would be the weekend of the state finals for field hockey, and his daughter, Tess, is Captain of the team, and he was hoping that not only would she be playing in the finals but my parents would be in Vermont watching the game.

This meant I couldn't quite plan whether I'd surprise them on the Cape or in Vermont because it all depended on Tess's team. I didn't want to rent a car, because after twenty-two years in Alaska, I'm not much of a city driver. If on the Cape, I could take a bus or coax a friend into making the trip, as its only an hour and a half from the city. Burlington was a different story. No direct flights from Boston. The bus takes six hours and would not get me there in time for a 10:00 am Championship game. I couldn't quite figure out how to make it all work.

About a week or so before the big surprise dinner, Brian sent out a group text to those of us who planned on attending and that's when I saw that my good friend from college, Ebeth, a New-Yorker, would be in Boston too. I texted her separately to let her know how excited I was to see her. She asked what I was doing for the rest of the weekend and I told her I was trying to figure out how to surprise my parents.

"Where in Vermont," She asked.

"Burlington"

"That's where Adam (her son) is in school! Road trip?"

 Ebeth, it turned out, was the perfect missing puzzle piece to make my plan work.

My parents drove to Vermont for Tess's semi-final game on Tuesday. If Tess lost they planned on returning to the Cape on Wednesday. Since I now had an adventure buddy for Vermont, I decided if she lost I would tell my parents on the phone I was coming. It wouldn't be quite the same level of surprise but would have to do.

While I skated on Second Lake on Tuesday night, my first time on ice in almost two years after blowing out my knee, I received the text: Tess's team won!

I did a little happy dance on ice. We were on for our Saturday surprise.

Well, after staying up till 1:30 am for Friday night's festivities that included a group of 50-year-old Moms cutting a rug at a gay bar, we woke up at 5:30 am to get on the road to Vermont.

You know that rung-out shaky feeling you get from sleep deprivation, mix that with a big dose of anticipation, add two amazing friends, and well, the three-and-a-half-hour trip whizzed by--before I knew it, we were parking by the field, right as the announcer introduced the players for each team.

When I pictured surprising my parents at the game, I imagined them standing on the sidelines and me tapping them on the shoulders to ask the score, assuming we'd arrive late. I didn't realize hundreds of folks would be in attendance, packed onto bleachers, and I'd have to pick out my family from below and walk up towards them.

Ebeth and I stood at the bottom for the National Anthem and as the audience sat back down I saw my brother in the crowd. His wife Elise noticed us and I saw her elbow Andrew. Next to Elise sat my parents. As I started to walk up the steps, my Mom looked right at me. No smile. Concentrated stare.

She told me later that she saw me and thought, "That woman looks just like Christy but it can't be because she's in Alaska. Christy must have a twin. But..."

I smiled at her and waved.

"That is Christy! Jol, Jol, it's your daughter!"

The look on my Dad's face was priceless.

And to make the day even better, my niece Tess got the tying assist in the last quarter to put the game into overtime. And for the first time in her four-year career on Varsity field hockey--a month after learning her beloved coach has breast cancer-- her team won the state championship on a beautiful Saturday in November, as we all hugged and high-fived from the stands.

Later that same day, I watched my eleven-year-old nephew Heath play ice hockey for the first time and he too assisted the goal that tied the game.

I slept oh so soundly that night and enjoyed a slow Sunday with my family, taking walks and watching sports on tv.

I flew back home on Monday, drove from Anchorage to Seward in the dark, the snow, the wind, going a bit slower than normal, hands gripping the steering wheel, wide awake despite the late hour and thousands of miles travelled. 

As I coasted down the hill towards the junction where the Sterling Highway meets the Seward Highway, the place we call "the Y", a car coming towards the stop sign didn't seem to be slowing down--He's going too fast, I thought, He's not going to stop,-- so I slowed way down and at the last minute the driver slammed on his breaks and swerved into a snow bank instead of hitting me.

In my rearview mirror I saw him pull out and head the opposite way, and I found myself screaming all kinds of cuss words, a rant that ended with: I just want to make it home!!!

And yes, I made it to my cozy red house up on the hill, and crawled into bed with Nick, where I cried tears of release, before closing my eyes to much-needed sleep, with a full day of work only a few hours away.

Would I do it all again?

Yes, every time, yes.

For the look on their faces when they saw me, for the time with friends and family, for the constant surprise within these fleeting lives.

For the crazy beautiful love of it.

Comments

[Candice]

What a roller coaster of a weekend! The highs, the terrifying almosts…. I’m glad you were able to make it all work out!

[Daniele]

Yes! These are the moments that matter. Hold them close. So happy for you and your loved ones. Stay safe on those roads!

[Christy]

Thanks Candice and Daniele, it was an up and down weekend but the joys of seeing friends and family made the crazy travel all worth it.