My brother gave me a call around 6:30pm yesterday.
"The next Jet Blue flight that departs is carrying our parents."
Ken had driven up to Whittier to chauffeur Mom and Dad down to the Long Beach Airport for their flight to Seattle.
He made sure they were safely tucked aboard their flight, then called me as he kept a watchful eye on their taxiing plane.
I went out to the front yard, phone in hand.
"There they go!", Ken reported from his vantage point at the airport.
Seconds later the hurtling silver tube emblazoned with the Jet Blue logo and containing our parental units shot into view.
I waved as Mom and Dad headed for a restful interlude on Orcas Island.
Ken's parting words: "Wow. You DO live close to the airport!"
"The next Jet Blue flight that departs is carrying our parents."
Ken had driven up to Whittier to chauffeur Mom and Dad down to the Long Beach Airport for their flight to Seattle.
He made sure they were safely tucked aboard their flight, then called me as he kept a watchful eye on their taxiing plane.
I went out to the front yard, phone in hand.
"There they go!", Ken reported from his vantage point at the airport.
Seconds later the hurtling silver tube emblazoned with the Jet Blue logo and containing our parental units shot into view.
I waved as Mom and Dad headed for a restful interlude on Orcas Island.
Ken's parting words: "Wow. You DO live close to the airport!"
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