Remembering Shannon

In December, 2006, we lost my niece Shannon Hyle after a brief devastating illness. I traveled by plane from South Texas to Kansas to be with my family, flying in to Oklahoma City, and renting a car for the remaining 150 miles. It seemed a good idea at the time.

Over the years we had come to rely on Shannon to help us cope when we needed it, getting us to laugh, giving guidance when puzzled. She could always put a spin on even the mundane that would have us in stitches. Now we were on our own. Or so we thought.

They were desolate days, as we struggled to support each other, and find the way, simply, to survive.

Somehow, amazingly (how could the calendar advance without Shannon?), it was time for me to return home. Fatigued to the bone from this dreadful period, I headed out in the rental for the distant Oklahoma City airport.

Well, in spite of studying the city map, I got lost trying to get in to the airport. I turned off the freeway at what I thought was the correct exit, but to no avail. I could SEE it over there, planes were coming in and taking off, one couldn’t miss it. But . . . I . . . could . . . not . . . find . . . the entrance! I went down one road with the airport to the left of me. After about 10 miles and realizing I had left the airport far behind, I backtracked and tried another road. There was even a sign: “AIRPORT.” Now I was cruising along the south side of the airport. Soon I was out in the country again.

I was running out of time. I was going to miss my flight. At the point of tears, I pulled off the road. I tried to think. If I missed my flight, I’d be able to catch another, it wasn’t the end of the world. But it was the overwhelming feeling of being unable cope, making me feel old and useless, that was devastating.

I reached up and turned on the radio for something to calm me. And out of the speaker came this unfamiliar song, with a very pleasing beat, saying something like “wherever you go, there you are, and it’s OK, it’ll work out.”

Through my tears, absently gazing up the road, I saw an exit to another freeway that I didn’t think I’d been on. I got going again, turned onto this new highway, and there was the entrance to the airport.

Well, I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I turned in the rental at the parking garage kiosk (the attendant was right there, looking like he was waiting for me!). Stress and the Kansas winter had my arthritis in full howl as I hobbled into the terminal dragging my suitcase, with 10 minutes to catch my flight. I had no idea where or how far the Southwest check-in was. For the first time in my years of flying, an airport guy came trotting (yes, trotting!) up to me and asked if I needed help! I half expected to see “Shannon” stitched on his name label. He whisked me to an elevator, zipped me to the SW desk, and next thing I knew, even tho last in line, I was boarding.

There was no doubt in my mind. Shannon was looking after her aging aunt, directing me through this anxious episode. Thanks, Shannon. We love you so much. I'm so glad you will always be with us in so many ways.

Photo: Shannon and her daughters, Diana and Samantha, Christmas, 1990, taken by one of her sisters.

Story ID:	2429
Written by:	Carol J Garriott (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Organization:	home/retired
Story type:	Family History
Location:	Oklahoma City Oklahoma USA
Year:	2006
Person:	Shannon Hyle