Another Eventful Journey, as we Make our Way Home and Prepare for What Awaits us.

I wish I could say after our first cancelled flight home from London to Los Angeles (causing our waylay in London), that our second attempt home was smoother, but I would be lying. Besides, anyone who travels these days knows there is no such thing as smooth sailing when it comes to air travel.

It took several train rides to return to Heathrow Airport from our Airbnb in Notting Hill. Just as we had done on the trip out from the airport, we stopped at Paddington Station on the way back, only this time it wasn't nighttime, so we could do a bit of looking around and shopping. Miles had wanted a Paddington Bear, so a Paddington Bear it was! Paddington seemed quite excited at the prospect of going across the pond and living in Los Angeles, although for the life of me, I can't figure out why. But who am I to crush a bear's dreams? I was careful not to let on, since he and Miles had become fast friends and were excited to spend the rest of their lives together in LA LA Land.

We were flying Virgin Atlantic home, rather than American Airlines, which is where I have priority status and flying perks. Once we arrived at the airport, we had to get into a huge winding line at the terminal to check in our baggage, which would never have been the case if flying with American. After a prolonged period, the exact duration of which I can no longer recall, we got up to the desk/kiosks to check our baggage (the check-in process seemed to be mostly DIY, which we weren't used to). As soon as it was our turn, two very unfortunate things happened. The first was that all the automated check-in machines went down, causing the hundreds of people waiting to check their bags to go into a complete panic. That included us, since most of the well-padded time cushion I had left for us had been eaten up by the monstrous check-in line. At the same time, we realized that one of our suitcases was missing. Yes, that's right, our suitcase was flat out, gone! One of the kids, it seems, had left the suitcase somewhere along the way, but no one seemed to know where.

Garin took off quickly, going backward through the long line, trying to retrace our steps. We were hoping to find the missing luggage somewhere in the line, but no luck. The best I can recall, Garin returned to tell me the bad news that he had not found the bag. So I left three of the kids with the rest of the bags, near the now non-functioning luggage check-in kiosks. I took off with Garin to try to find the missing bag somewhere in the terminal.

I was grateful for the bright aqua blue color of the missing luggage, which I figured increased our chances of spotting it among the throngs of enraged airline passengers, who were now worried they were likely going to miss their flight. Garin and I eventually spotted the bag (it had been abandoned by one of the kids before we ever got in line). The bag was with an airline worker who seemed quite upset with us and told us that she was just getting ready to cart it away and have it destroyed. Destroyed? What happened to Lost and Found? Unbeknownst to me, any luggage that is left unattended, even for a few minutes, is taken away and destroyed immediately, for safety reasons. How that bag sat there unattended for well over an hour and did not suffer the same fate is nothing short of a miracle. To this day, I believe I have the chaos created by the nonfunctioning kiosks and angry passengers to thank for creating a distraction, away from our little old abandoned bag, and toward some much bigger problems brewing in the terminal.

Once Garin and I had the bag in hand and our heart rates had gone down a bit, we rushed back to the malfunctioning check-in kiosks to get an update from the other kids on what was happening. The mobs of passengers in line (which was now at a complete standstill) were growing more panicked and angry with each passing minute. Virgin Atlantic was attempting to summon enough employees to help start checking in the bags manually. However, since they weren't set up for this, it was nothing short of mayhem.

Eventually, all of our bags were checked in, and we took off running for the gate, in the hope of making our flight. For all of you who have been in that situation, with or without four kids in tow, I need not explain the stress.

Because we were booked onto this flight at the last minute, we lost the great seats I had reserved for us on our original American flight, nearly a year in before (bulkhead, extra legroom, etc.). Instead were stuck in the back of the plane (near the bathrooms, which for me, is a fate worse than death), and separated from each other as well. At least we were on the same plane, which didn't seem possible a few days before as I stood for hours at Heathrow, fighting for our right to return home to the US, before the end of 2024.

I am a pretty good sport about airline food, as are my kids. We always fly coach, and we're not too picky. However, after dining (if you can call it that) on Virgin Atlantic's cuisine, I am convinced that we could have enjoyed a better meal in prison. The trip was long and we were weary, but eventually we made it home. In the end, we were grateful to have made our flight at all and that it was still 2024 once we arrived on US soil. They also managed to lose Garin's checked luggage, but it was safely delivered to our house a few days later.

For me, most of the plane trip was spent thinking of and dreading coming back to a life without our beloved Fitzy. When we left on our trip, in mid-June, our family was whole, but once we returned, there would be a huge hole where he had been. Having lost other pets, I knew just how painful that reality was going to be. While we were away, there were times when I tried not to think about his sudden death and the grief that ensued from that loss. But once home, there would be no escaping it.

As always, Anna was there to pick us up outside the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX. Normally, Fitzy would be at the foot of the passenger seat, making circles around the airport (in our car) with Anna, while she waited for confirmation that we were outside with our luggage. Not that day. She pulled up, and we piled our luggage into the back of our SUV. I went back around to the passenger door, opened it, and there was no one there. The place where Fitzy always sat was empty. I started crying immediately. Instead, on my seat was a navy blue bag, containing the carved wooden box with Fitzy's ashes. The grief was even heavier and more unbearable than I had imagined.

Our European trip was over, but our journey through grief was only beginning.

Some closing thoughts...

I cannot underestimate the devastation that losing Fitzy, my fifth child, eight days into our six-week trip, caused. When we first learned of his sudden and unexpected death, my first thought was to return home, immediately. I looked at flights and talked it over with Anna, who had been caring for him when he passed, as well as the children. In the end, we decided that coming was futile. It wouldn't turn back the clock, nor would it change what had happened. Rather, we would spend the remainder of the unbearably hot Hidden Hills summer without anything to do but sit around the house and feel lost and miserable without our beloved boy.

That said, it was very difficult to carry on. I felt enormously guilty. I would break down in tears at the most unexpected times and in the most unexpected places during our trip. Every place we went, there was a pug. Fitzy was trying to comfort us, until we could get back home, of that I am sure.. And that he did. Because once we arrived home, the pug sightings ceased completely.

This trip was wonderful and interesting in so many ways. Yet, it will forever be marred by the memory of losing Fitzy. I think we have all come to accept that.

In hindsight, I realize that I suffered personal trauma as a result of losing him while we were away. I didn't realize it until we returned. But once we were back, and some time had passed, I noticed that I had lost all desire to travel, which for me is unheard of. I am always chasing and planning the next trip, as all of you know. But losing Fitzy in that way, so unexpectedly, left me feeling uneasy about leaving home, being far away, etc. After that experience, I came to associate traveling with unexpected trauma, which surprised even me. It has been nearly a year, and we haven't taken a trip. I found that I didn't want to be far from home, even though Fitzy was already gone, so the worst had happened.

Another reason I didn't want to travel was because of a promise I had made to Fitzy. In planning our summer 2024 trip, I became all-consumed. It was a very difficult trip to plan, and many important things seemed to go by the wayside as I worked away at it. One of those things was Fitzy. I knew he was getting up in years, but I figured he still had at least two years left with us. He was healthy after all, and Jimmy, my other pug, had lived to 15 1/2 years old. I had promised Fitzy that after this trip, I would cease our travel and spend more time doing "old man" things with him, like taking him on stroller rides and having quiet time during the busy weekdays to let him sit on my lap while I read. I was never able to keep my promise, which devastated me. So, attempting to keep that promise, in the only way I knew how, became another reason for not traveling. I sought to have a quieter year and reflect on our life together with Fitzy. He may not have been here to pamper and spoil as the plan had been, but I still wanted to honor him by staying close to home. I also wanted to have time and space to grieve him rather than be consumed with trip planning.

As I write this, I realize that losing Fitzy may be another reason I couldn't finish the blog posts for the trip. I felt a strange dread every time I would go to write. Yet, without finishing them, how was I to move on with documenting our lives, as I usually do? I couldn't figure out a way, so I avoided the entire mess.

I am now done documenting the trip and have also grieved my boy for nearly ten months. Things are better. I am ready to travel again. I think I am ready to write again. But as for another dog, I am not ready for that. Fitzy was as special as they come, so it may be a while before I can contemplate the idea of that.