Latest / In Real Life With Holly B. / Flying Again After 20 Years, Plus a Heartwarming Letter to Eli
Transcript
- Holly B.: Hey friends, welcome to In Real Life with Holly B. It's episode four, and I'm on location today, I guess, if you will. I'm in St. John's, Newfoundland. And so I'm in my room and I am taking part of this 30 day challenge to record a podcast every day. And so this is what you get you get a person who has walked probably 10 kilometers up Signal Hill and Cape Spear. unable to do something with this hair, but here I am. I'm showing up, and this is episode four, and I can't wait to share it with you. So before we get into our letter of the day, I wanted to share with you my experience from yesterday. It was Monday and it was the first time I was flying in almost two decades. Was I scared? Actually, I wasn't, which was odd. I mean If I could tell you the horrors my body would go through just before a flight, it was terrible. and so I needed to find a way to deal with this. I knew I had to get back on a plane at some point. And I really wanted to do this for myself, but also for my husband who wanted to travel. So he was going to a work function, is going, and I wanted to accompany him. I wanted to see St. John's. I want to see so much more of my own country. I made it. And the flight wasn't so bad. It was three hours and it was great. So why am I talking about that in an episode about real connections? back in the day when I was flying, I lived up in northern Canada. We would fly quite a bit to Edmonton or to go back home to Ontario for a visit. And each time I would be on a plane, I would be white knuckled. I would latch onto the person next to me. Thank goodness for those people. Who carried me through those flights when I wasn't able to carry myself. And they got me through it. I would by the end we I was holding hands with strangers and they were amazing. And so, you know, the fear took over me for many years. I'm sure I even handed that down to my boys to a certain extent. I'm hoping not. Rogan does fly now. Although Zayn hasn't done much of it, I'm hoping that I haven't by transference, given that to them. So I know I need I knew I needed to get over this and I needed to get back on a plane, which I did. And there was a lovely young lady sitting next to us. And normally I would sort of latch on to that person, but I was able to just connect with her on a great Canadian kind of way, said, Hello, how are you? We had some small talk. And it was just enough, you know, and it was comfortable. And I didn't make her feel awkward by latching onto her and giving her my fears or announcing to the world my fears. It was just a great connection that way. But the real fun part was that my husband knew probably seven people on that plane because they're all headed towards the same area for the same conference. And he was able to make some of those connections. Now, in an airport as big as the one in Toronto, it's very difficult to make connections, but I I sat back and and observed people, right? And and people sitting in seats again and making those connections, having conversations, and it was just heartwarming. So I got on the flight, I made some connections, and it was great. And I think I can fly again. So I've promised Rogan we are going to head to Banff next year, so I think I can fly instead of driving. Now let's get to the real good stuff. We have a letter today. It's a letter to Eli from his human mom, Shari Lane. Shari is such a beautiful soul. What a great human. She has a substack as well. She is an author, just a very soft-spoken woman who, when you speak to her, you get sort of lost in her eyes and her soul and her demeanor, and you want to be a better human just being in her presence. And so I dedicate this episode to. To Eli and to Shari. So here we go. No sitting on the beach. If you'd had words, I'm nearly certain those are the words we'd have heard. You had a whole list of rules you'd likely characterize as common sense, rules like this belly is for rubbing, these ears too, the rump is for thumping, naturally. Two, breakfast must be served at six AM on the dot. Deviations from this rule may be allowed, but only prior to never after Six AM. 3. If anything good happens unexpectedly, it must continue to happen every day from now into perpetuity. A midnight ramble to cure your insomnia is no exception. 4. This is my bed. I tend to sleep diagonally. If you'd like to sleep with me, you may have a tiny bit of room on the edge with your arms and legs hanging off. 5. Balls and sticks are for throwing. Throwing must continue without cessation until I have signaled it is over by chewing the ball or stick to shreds. Also, no stick is too big for retrieval. 6. Running, splashing, preferably in muddy water, and ball and stick fetching are the permitted activities in the woods, at the dog park, and at the beach. As previously stated, there is no sitting on the beach. But I've come at this the wrong way, so let me start. properly. Dear Eli How I miss you You dear, sweet, silly old thing. I miss the way you looked at me, as if you understood every word I said, and yet when I shared my suspicions about your deep intelligence with my friend, she laughed, laughed. And I said and asked if I was talking about the dog who peed on himself for joy whenever anyone new came to visit. With studied dignity I said. I can assure you he is more mature now. He almost never piddles on himself these days. I miss how cleverly you pretended innocence. You figured out pretty early on that the sound of your dog tags jingling was annoying to us, your human mom and dad. So in the morning all you had to do was shake your head over and over and over until the sound drove us crazy and we gave in. And got up. At no other time in the day did you do this. It was a carefully calculated move to encourage us to rise and shine. And you were a master thief. If some unexpecting soul left a sandwich or a piece of pizza on the coffee table, you'd saunter in, studiously looking the other direction as if you hadn't even noticed there was food. Then at the last minute you'd swerve, grab the delicacy, and swallow it whole before anyone realized what you you were up to. I missed the way you'd moan, pathetically, Whenever my daughter came home after a short absence, a list of grievances so long your recitation often lasted many minutes. The first time she came home from college you took one look at her, then ran across the room and sat in the corner with your back to her. The message was clear. You broke my heart by leaving, and I'm not looking at you now. Really, you didn't need words to express yourself. Another example We discovered immediately upon adopting your brother from another mother, Charlie, that he hated riding in the car. He'd yell and pant the whole time. Finally, you'd had enough. You barked at him sharply, and it was obvious you were saying, Knock it off, Bub. Don't you know riding in the car with your head out the window is the best in the world? You're ruining it. And then there was the moment when you had been so ill for so long, and I finally called the vet and said, It's time. She came to the house, laid out an so soft blanket, and asked you if you were ready. You went over to the couch, retrieved the ball you'd hidden, returned to the blanket, and lay down with the ball in your mouth. Ready to find the game of fetch that would never end. Love you and miss you always, Mom. Whoa, okay. That was beautiful. and definitely difficult to read near the end, but again, please remember We're so sad when they leave us, but think of all of the happiness they brought us. And think of all the dogs, the cats, the all the animals that need our love. And this was a testament to Shari's love to Eli. So thank you, Shari, for sharing your memories of Eli with us and all the listeners and viewers. And I'll be coming back to you tomorrow with probably crazier hair and another wonderful adventure from here in the east coast of Canada. I'm your host, Holly B from In Real Life. Thank you so much for joining me. Bye for now.