BHUTANESE PICKUP -- AIRPORT ISSUE = AAAKKK!!!

Well, the original plan, organized and put on my plate a couple weeks ago, started off good.  Sharmila's parents were arriving from Nepal and she was very excited.  She had told me that her dad couldn't walk very much. That was all I knew. I looked forward to greeting them and giving them their granddaughter that I had helped deliver about 2 months ago.  Thought that would be fun.

They were going to arrive on Thursday, the 14th, at 10:00 PM.  That would be good in my schedule, since I was having my neuropathy ankle/foot shots on Friday.  To have them home and settled in the night before seemed like a good idea. Took pressure off me.

Thursday evening I was called.  They weren't coming until 8:00 PM on Friday.  I hoped my feet would not be numb by 7:00, ready to pick up Sharmila and others and head for the airport. My hubby would drive and I'd ride along if my feet weren't working, yet. THEN the timing changed ... 10:25...10:43...12:08.

I rushed up the street to pick up family about 11:30.  Instead of my van being filled with men and women,  I ended up with Sharmila, her mother-in-law, Dil, and a "cousin" -- all nice, but not-strong ladies.  Didn't know that would be an issue, so wasn't concerned.

We got to the airport and a few minutes later they arrived. Her Dad was in a wheelchair; an airport lady worker was pushing it.  The Mom was walking, but struggling a bit after all those hours and extra days during the move from Nepal. Sharmila burst into tears when seeing her parents, and threw her arms around them.

A few minutes later we crossed to the parking area to my van.  Then something I could have never have anticipated took place. A leader from a local organization that was to help greet, make certain re: their location, meet them there and, even in the middle of the night, and get all the paperwork in place... disappeared.  He and a friend took a couple girls who had also arrived from Nepal, grabbed their bags and headed out.  I didn't know that until I got to my van.  These men weren't there to help load my van, etc.  AND, when Dad was in the wheelchair, the airport lady and I ended up being the ones lifting him out of the wheelchair and up into my van.  Sharmila and Dil put the heavy duffel bags in.  I pulled into their compound about 1:00.  Guys in the family came out to help carry Dad in and walk Mom in.  The gals carried the bags in.. and they were so heavy, I was shocked.  I realize a lot of lack-of-help was because it was middle of the night and people were either sleeping to head off for work early in the morning or were at their jobs until about 2AM, such as Sharmila's husband, one of my dear ones.  He had time-off on Thursday for their arrival, but, when it was cancelled, he couldn't do it again.

Sharmila went across the compound to her apartment after her parents were inside Dil's, so she could get some Nepali food and bring it over.  I was in Dil's apartment, too, for a few minutes, ready to make sure Dad and Mom were settled and I could greet them, welcome them, nicely now -- not quite the same rushiness as the airport situation.

 
Suddenly, I asked, "Where's the baby?"  Dil pointed to the couch on the other side of the living room where the baby blankets were covering her.  I said, "Her grandparents need to have her!  Give her to them!"  Dil laughed and rolled her eyes at me, picked up Sofia, and gave her to them.

Today, I dropped in to see them.  They had been shifted to Sharmila's apartment across the compound from Dil and Ravi's.  They were sitting on their bed.  Mom and Dad looked much better and were very happy to see me.  Rangit, Sharmila's husband, wanted to take a picture of all of us together, so I had to climb onto the bed.  What a treat.  [Dad is NOT walking, so I don't know when/how this is going to be handled through the caring organizations, refugee doctors; it will be, though.]

Dad and Mom are my new "Brother" and "Sister".  They are Christians and have the same Heavenly Father -- we don't speak any of the same language, but it's obvious we have the same hearts.

[And I'll be calling the organization, b/c their man  was supposed to make sure we were doing well when leaving the airport, and  should have helped put Dad in the van. I've  watched this helpfulness for nearly 3 years.  It's the first time I've seen anyone not step up to do their kind job.  He left Dad in danger -- we two not-strong ladies could have dropped him.]