Jordan, continued.

We all arrived in Detroit at around 2PM, if I remember correctly. 2PM on Saturday. It was a long flight. I remember sitting next to Mariah, holding her hand, leaning my head on her shoulder with her head leaning on mine, while she consistently cried and I joined her from time to time. A long, emotional, exhausting flight. We were pretty quiet during almost the entire flight.

I had a book of crossword puzzles that I had shoved into my bag (before I left Portland) without really thinking, and it was really a pretty lame crossword book with some of the most awkward clues and far-fetched answers you could think of. One of those books you find at the dollar store. Anyway, we worked on a few of the puzzles, then after a while we started to get really bored and so started just putting random words into the spaces. It cheered both of us up a bit.

It was an odd feeling. For me, it was like... I was so emotionally conflicted. I was angry, I was upset, I was sad, gloomy, anxious, and yet hopeful and faithful that there was still a chance for Jordan to be healed. All of that equated to a feeling of nothingness, really. I just felt worn out and empty when all was said and done. It was kind of like time stood still that entire weekend. Everything just stopped for us.

When we arrived in Detroit, there was a minor mix-up with the gentleman who had come to the airport to pick us up -- he was waiting for us in the baggage claim area, whereas my family and I had migrated to the flight arrivals area and were waiting outside for someone to pull over and take us to my cousin. Eventually, with the help of a few phone calls, we figured it out. He was a kind, older gentleman, and his name... I can't remember his name.