Blooming: Lilacs are in full bloom here in Maine. I missed the height of Mom's crabapple tree's bloom by a day.

Trip Factoid #1: The distance to your gate is always in direct proportion to the weight of your carry-on luggage.

Trip Factoid #2: U.S. Airways is not the same airline carrier as U.S. Air. Go figure.

A Daughter Again

Two years ago I took a trip by myself to Maine. It was the first time since we'd had the twins that I had traveled without the kids and Tab. My youngest sister, Susannah, had just given birth to her second child, so I had the perfect excuse to go. I had such a good time with my family up there, we decided to make it an annual tradition. This year money has been tight, thanks to several unforeseen car expenses, so my always-generous mother paid for my airline ticket from Philadelphia to Portland.

I look forward to this trip all year. I miss my boys while I am away, of course. I talk to them every day and have long phone conversations with Tab every night to hear the full report. (In fact on this short trip, I would use up 170 minutes on a 200 minute phone card.) Still, it is wonderful to be the daughter for awhile, instead of the mother; to be catered to and coddled, for a change.

Tab and the twins dropped me off at the Philadelphia airport at about 12:15 in the afternoon. My flight was not scheduled to leave until 1:25, but I have a pathological horror of being late. Besides, I wanted to have plenty of time in case of traffic problems on I-95. Being early also meant I didn't have to rush to my gate, which, as luck would have it, was the furthest one away in the B terminal.

I fly rarely enough that I'm not jaded about airline travel and still enjoy the process. I don't mind sitting in the waiting area by the gate and reading my book or watching other people. I like observing the happy reunions as passengers disembark and are greeted by loved ones, and I always feel a little sorry for the people who have no one to meet them.

I still take an absurdly childlike pleasure in the plane's takeoff. I've read about aerodynamics, and I understand the principles of flight. And yet it still seems miraculous to me that this huge, heavy plane loaded with passengers will actually become airborne. I can't help smiling when the plane speeds down the runway and begins its upward climb.

The flight was uneventful, and I was met at the Portland International Jetport (ha!) by my mother, youngest sister Susannah, and her two children, Emily, age 7, and Isaac who just turned 2. Mom treated us to a late lunch at Pizzaria Uno in South Portland near the airport, then we headed north.

Mom and her husband, Jake, live in Skowhegan, Maine, about 75 miles north of Portland. Before going to Mom's house, however, we drove up to North Anson, another twenty minutes beyond Skowhegan, so I could see the house Susannah and her husband Kevin purchased last fall. They now own more than four acres of countryside and a lovely old farmhouse. The house does need some work; fortunately, Kevin is quite handy and has already made some improvements with the Jake's assistance.

Then we headed back to Skowhegan. Mom had arranged sprays of lilacs in a vase in my bedroom and placed chocolate mints on the pillow. I like to call her house "Mom's Bed and Breakfast." Much as I miss the boys, I'm very happy to be here.

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