Since Monday I've heard a lot of horror stories of delayed flights and lost luggage that plagued holiday travel, but I have yet to hear one that compares to my clash with brutal Mother Nature in a near-death experience. Well, not quite near-death, but let's just say I would rather have a bird crap in my hair on my wedding day than experience this again.

I suppose I should feel lucky that my travels from South Bend to neighboring Fort Wayne did not involve removing my shoes and exposing my rotten socks to security guards. Nor was I forced to sit next to a sweaty man in desperate need of Gas-X while a 4-year-old kicked the back of my chair. However, these may have made for a more enjoyable trip after all.

On Dec. 19, we set out at 1:30 on an innocent two-hour drive back to Fort Wayne. My mom was to meet me at a gas station in Columbia City at 3 p.m., a town 45 minutes from my home. I waved goodbye to my ride as she pulled away at 3:15 p.m., and sank to the curb hopelessly as my mom was nowhere in sight.

So there I sat at this shady BP on top of my overflowing bag of dirty laundry like a homeless person. It was so cold I put on more and more layers of clothes from the bag until I eventually smelled bad too.

An older man actually held out his hand to give me some change until he saw me whip out my cell phone. Every five minutes I called home and every five minutes I got the answering machine.

Between swear words, I tried to remind myself to go easy on my mom for this little mishap of forgetting her oldest daughter at a gas station in the frigid cold. After all, she was the one who I puked on repeatedly as a small child. But the thought of puking on my mom only brought a smile to my face at that point.

Within minutes, the wind picked up and stinging rain was coming down in big cold drops so I decided to swallow my pride and carry my two bags over to a nearby Arby's. Yes, I would be embarrassed beyond belief but at least I would be warm. But sadly as I reached for my bags and lifted up, the handles came ripping completely off my durable paper bag luggage, spilling my clothing and undergarments in piles on the curb.

As my luck would have it, I had a total of only $.17 on my person, not even enough to buy a warm drink. For the first time, I was grateful for my freshman 15 that was playing a key role in keeping me from freezing to death.

I couldn't feel my legs anymore when I got up to use the restroom and warm up for a minute inside. For some strange reason, the toilets in this bathroom were not even separated by walls, so I aborted the mission and went back to my miserable waiting spot on the curb.

At 3:45 p.m., my mom answered the phone. I had never been happier to hear her voice. I had also never yelled at her so viciously in my life. On the way home, she tried to sweet talk me into keeping the scenario a secret from my dad.

My cell phone bill came in the mail yesterday and said I placed 25 phone calls to my house within the span of two hours.

I framed it and hung it up with the family photos so my mom would remember the incident.

I also wrote this column for circulation to the whole campus and will mail her multiple copies that can also be framed nicely as a reminder.

As I packed up my bags into the trunk before leaving home on Sunday, I thanked my mom for doing my laundry, letting me drive her car, and preparing home-cooked meals.

I told her she was a great mom…and then I got a ride with someone

• Layover at the gas station