Lost Baggage

Is it possible that my lost luggage or as British Airways calls it "Mishandled Baggage" is really a metaphor for my life?

Two days ago I returned from a fantastic trip to London and Barcelona. Which was seemingly capped off with a surprise computer error that sat me in first class on the flight home from Heathrow. Lucky things like that never happen to me. I kept thinking, as I was reclining on my lazyboy like seat complete with personal converter, socks and bottles of wine served in real glasses, that this was some kind of joke and someone was going to humiliate me for mistakenly sitting there. Most of the time on flights my experience is much like what happened to my friend that I was travelling with; a screaming child in back of you that pulls on and kicks your seat for seven hours. Or someone with smelly feet in front and a drooling large guy who keeps falling asleep with his head on your shoulder beside. It was all too good to be true.

Here's where the metaphor begins. In my experience in relationships with men I have never been seated in first class. I have always suffered through economy. Tolerated discomfort and poor treatment because the destination was going to make up for the trip. It has taken me years to figure out that the trip is the destination. Years can go by while you wait and hope in vain to get to that destination. Besides it has been my own fault for not getting to the airport sooner to ensure a better seat and I am definetly not worthy of the extra cost of first class. I have had a fantasy each time I check in at an airport counter that I will be bumped up to first class. Optimism and patience have caused me to tolerate very uncomfortable things much longer than I should. I always think things can get better. But those things mostly only happen in movies.

Of course it was all too good to be true. The great trip and fabulous flight home came crashing down when we learned that our baggage had not made the fabulous flight home with us. But not to worry the British Airway rep told us confidently and assuredly, the baggage will be on the first flight home tomorrow and would be courriered to our doorstep by that evening. We could even check the progress of the baggage on the website. My immediate reaction was of upset and concern. I didn't like begining separated from my baggage, not one bit. There were really important things in there. Like my house keys and my favourite shoes. The rep didn't miss the chance to point out to me how stupid it was to pack my house keys in the suitcase. Of course I knew this already; the same way I know it will rain and refuse to take an umbrella with me when I leave for work in the morning. Some stupid choices defy logic. Same as is true for the relationships. How many times have I known that getting myself involved with certain a man was not a wise thing to do and went ahead and did it anyway. Like that old "Found A Peanut" song I used to sing as a kid. Eventhough it was rotten, I always ate it anyway. So I managed to get into my home without the key and anyway it was all going to be solved by tomorrow I told myself. This just allowed me to avoid the dreaded unpacking a day longer.

So the next day I dutifully checked the website to see the progress of the baggage. Decided it was best not to go anywhere that evening because the baggage was coming. Throughout the day was told that the baggage was being traced via the website. By eight that evening I decided that maybe I should call and see what was happening with the suitcase. After ten minutes of press this and press that I finally got a person on the line who actually laughed when I told her I was expecting the suitcase today. "I don't know why they tell people they will get their baggage the next day. That never happens." She chuckled. She then went on to tell me that if I was really lucky it would take two days, but more likely at least four. At least four! Then she said it could be soaking wet once it arrives as they keep the luggage outside at Heathrow because they don't have space and "you know how much it has been raining in England." "There are some really important things in that suitcase." I told her. "Things I really need. Like my house keys.". "Oh you should know better than to put something like that in your suitcase.". Somehow it is now my fault that my suitcase has been lost and I stupidly forgot my that I had put my house keys in there. I remember thinking they where probably safer in there than being dragged all around Barcelona in my purse. What an idiot I was. How many times have I felt this exact way in my realtionships. My ex, whom I lived with for over five years had the same ability to twist things around to somehow make me responsible for everything. I refuse to think this way anymore. I told the rep. that my friend would also be very upset as she had packed her magnifying mirrors and all of her tweezers in her suitcase and she needed them desperately for some serious plucking. This did not even produce a slight chuckle from the rep.

So I broke the bad news to my friend and then she began to research the whole problem. We discovered through various blogs and websites that there are over 20,000 pieces of luggage at Heathrow that have not made it to their proper destination. Some people waiting weeks and weeks before getting their suitcases. Some having to spend entire vacations without any luggage, some never getting their luggage back at all. My friend then discovered that the situtaion is so bad at Heathrow that they are now shipping by boat the luggage to Milan to be sorted out there.

As the reality of the lost baggage sinks in I am now fondly recalling all of the things in the suitcase that I need. My toiletries, all the chargers to every electronic device I own that needs charging, my favourite Enzo Anglelini shoes, most of my summer clothes, including my good bras. It is really difficult to find good bras that fit properly. All of the great bags and posters I bought at various museums on the trip. I try to be less superfiscial, I try to tell myself they are only things and they can be replaced. That's what people say to you when you lose something. Usually they add something like at least you still have your health or at least nothing happened to you. Here's the metaphor thing again. No one knows how badly a loss can feel until they have their own and even then that loss experience is unique to you. You can never predict how a loss will feel. And even if it was the loss of something you are probably better off without, the loss of the dream of what it could have been or the the loss of the fantasy of what it was, still can really hurt like hell. Escaping the pain of loss becomes your sole focus. You trying in vain to go back to a place before the loss. A place that can never be returned to again. All sounds very dramatic I am sure. I am after all only talking about a suitcase here. But that is the lesson of loss. Perhaps one that never fully gets learned.

So many people have said, that's why I always put everything I need in my carry on bag. Well at Heathrow they changed the rules and only let you carry on one bag. This included your purse. This is part of the reason they can't manage their luggage there they suddenly doubled the volume of bags. The methaphor here is never put anything valuable or anything you need into someone else's control. Here I am mostly talking about your self. Your self worth, your self defintion, your time and energy. You have to carry these things yourself.

Once your baggage is lost, they become angry and almost threatening at British Airways. It says on the website that if you have already reported your baggage as missing then not to call them as calling could result in your bags taking even longer to be returned to you. I imagined someone out there at British Airways in their British accent saying, "it's that bitch Fritzi calling from Canada again about her missing baggage. Just for that she will never see her suitcase again. Say goodbye to your favourite shoes and chargers, you irritating cow." Sounds like they've got the suitcase hostage and I have to await instructions from them if I want it safely returned to me. But at the same time I had to laugh because it reminded me of desperate phone calls I had made trying to salvage a doomed relationship. Each phone call just made the situation worse. Sometimes you just have to let go. Unfortunately the baggage that you want lost never goes anywhere and stuff you want to keep, gets taken away.

I keep picturing my suitcase on some carousel going round and round. With each revoultion the case a little worse for wear. It is like it's me going round and round in circles, lost and unclaimed. Or maybe it is out in some heap of suitcases that have lost their way, growing mildewy from the rain.

See the truth is I want to be claimed. I want someone to track me down and say that this suitcase is important it has lots of valueable things inside of it that can't be replaced. Isn't this just what everyone wants? That is why I have to get that suitcase back.