I don't own a lot of jewelry. I wish it was because I only select precious pieces that stand the test of time and are classics. Yes, I have strands of pearls (I think one is real). I own both gold and silver. I have items that belonged to my grandmother and great-grandmother. I have some diamonds.
I do not have a Cartier tank watch or an Hermes enamel bangle bracelet (yes, two dream pieces on the aptly-titled One Day Pinterest board).
The jewelry I do have, I love and I wear. I've culled through the costume jewelry, the pieces I've purchased at ’those’ parties and items I just never or won’t wear no matter how much I like them.
After the cleaning out, when I survey what remains, I have a lot of bracelets. Quick reminder and possibly the influence on my stacks of bracelets, I don't wear earrings. I tore my left ear lobe in my mid-20s after wearing the Belinda Carlisle, Jody Watley gold hoops and always being on the phone tugging those hoops down. Along with the aforementioned Cartier and Hermes pieces, fixing my ear lobe and then finding diamond studs to wear is on the wish list.
The bracelets range from precious because of what they are and who they are from. I have the ones I wear each and every day and the one I put on when I travel (strangely superstitious in that one area).
Because I travel frequently, I know the routine with jewelry as I go through security. I rarely wear dangly, chunky pieces because pat downs slow me down. I do wear bracelets. Of the three I wear, I take off two and put them in a bin. I leave one on. Habit. One has two charms that represent my children. It’s a hook bangle bracelet so I always check if it is hooked and both charms are still there.
I walk through the scanner and immediately hold out my right arm to show the TSA agent my wrist. It is often-times examined.
Now, when I'm flying solo, I cut it close. I get to the airport with just the right amount of time. I don't get to enjoy a coffee or a sit-down breakfast. Most of the time, I make it with a handful of moments to spare. I know to go through without items which could potentially complicate or delay my travel. I know I need three bins — one for my purse, one for the laptop and one for shoes (strangely, I’m no longer TSA pre-check) and the two bracelets.
I frequent two airports in Texas. I’ve flown into others in my state and many more across the country. I know the lay of the land or at best, can figure out where to go.
But there are some days that my knowledge, frequent flyer status and minimalist jewelry gets me no where fast.
Those days cutting it close is riskier than usual. Those times removing two bracelets takes up too much time.
Yet, I do.
Frequent flyer status means absolutely nothing when you are cutting it close — OK, running late to a flight. Yes, running. (I also have my travel flats because running through an airport in heels is not only dramatic and made for TV movies, it hurts and is hard.)
Dashing through those who arrive the recommended two hours early for a flight (who are you people) and those who leisurely browse the magazines at the news stand, is a skill. I know how to anticipate movement and can cut like OJ. (I know I should probably not refer to him but come on, he ran through airports for Hertz commercials. It’s a reference people.)
Even with dashing, hustling and quick side steps, I sometimes get to the gate right when boarding begins or has already started (yes, sometimes almost ended). I try to calm my heart rate and pray I’m not breathing heavy or have any visible sweat beads. I sometimes need to really use the ladies room, but, yeah, no time.
It stinks when I have one of the first few numbers of the boarding passes. It really stinks when I have the highly coveted prize number one spot.
When you are One, you get to scroll down the jetway and upon stepping on to the plane, get to tell the flight attendant ‘general boarding.’ Then, an announcement is made so all are aware. It feels as close to the announcement made when the president boards his plane. ‘Welcome to Air Force One.’
I typically go a few rows down and take a window seat. I settle in, pop on my ear buds and ignore the other passengers. If traveling with co-workers, I’ll sometimes sit with them. I hate to save seats. I’ve also seen friends on flights .... again, I don’t save seats (except for my family and that’s a whole tray flipping down thing around row 15).
Because I fly so often, I forget that it is a luxury and makes work trips quicker than a drive. I forget that not everyone knows airplane seat etiquette and some don’t know how to quickly get through security.
Once on board and seated, I sit. I take a breath. I start watching a downloaded show or listening to a podcast. It’s similar to my drive home from work. Just me, by myself, in my mode of transportation.
Rarely do I take a drink or snack. I like the quiet. I like being in my own space.
During these short flights. I catch myself checking and rechecking if my travel bracelet it hooked and both charms are there. And, each time I check, I get that reminder that my flight home is leading me back to my family.
Recently, I told G that traveling for work is something I have to do, not necessarily enjoy. The crack of dawn flights and the late returns require child care arrangements, heightened planning and adjusting sleep schedules. I’m tired and just off if I have a long travel day. I know the flights and the traveling are a means to an end (let’s call it something important like a paycheck) but it isn’t all fun and exciting.
Traveling used to be a fancy luxury. I remember my grandmother dressed up — wore pantyhose. She didn’t lug a carry-on and try to heave it into the overhead compartment. She had her pocket book and maybe a small cosmetic train case. She read.
She traveled the world and usually brought home interesting pieces of jewelry. Amber from Russia, scarabs from Egypt, charms from Ireland, necklaces from Israel. She traveled before security required her to remove shoes. She didn’t have to remove her jewelry.
I haven’t had to travel for work in a few weeks, but do have a trip next week. I even have a spend the night trip late September. (That’s a
whole other set of planning requirements.) I’ll probably be cutting it close, rushing through security, wearing my three travel bracelets and this time, adding one of the bracelets from my grandmother.
It will remind me that travel is a luxury and oh how I wish I could be traveling with her.
