The phrase “you snooze, you lose” has never been more profound than the moment I watched my Amtrak train to New York City whisk away… without me.
There I stood in frigid Wilmington, staring in disbelief as the train I was absolutely certain I had not missed headed confidently toward the Big Apple.
Let me back up.
I was early.
So early, in fact, that it was too cold to sit outside. I thought, I’ve got wiggle room. I’ll grab a coffee. Maybe a bagel. Why not enjoy a leisurely conversation with the lovely women in the café? I’m a seasoned air traveler.
I know how this works.
Hot java in hand, I returned to the platform with ten minutes to spare. Ten! Minutes!
Since this was my first solo train adventure, I decided to be extra responsible and gather my boarding pass and ID.
Boarding pass? Check.
Driver’s license?
Nowhere.
Eight minutes.
Back down to the café. “Has anyone found a license?”
Nope.
Police station on site?
Nope.
Information booth?
Nope.
One minute to departure.
My blood pressure rising, I sprinted to the elevator. And wouldn’t you know it—every other time I had taken it, it worked like a charm. This time? Slow as molasses. Surely boarding times are squishy, right? Surely they’ll wait?
When the doors finally opened, I saw the train.
And in my mind, it was pulling in.
It was not.
It was pulling out.
Twenty years. I haven’t missed a flight or train in almost twenty years. And there I was, watching mine disappear down the tracks.
I walked back to the kind woman at the ticket counter, tears brimming, and confessed, “I blew it. I missed it.”
Incredulous, she said, “How did you do that? You were here early!”
Which gave me the opportunity to recount my entire saga of coffee, lost ID, and elevator betrayal.
She helped me book the next train. It would cost me—but I was back on track (literally).
And here’s what I learned.
Lesson One: Departure Times Are Not Squishy.
If you’re taking an Amtrak train and you’re a newbie like me—don’t assume flexibility. Departure time means departure time.
You snooze, you lose.
Lesson Two: There Is Always Another Train.
When I told the ticket agent, “I’m having a really bad day,” she looked at me gently and said, “No, you’re not. There’s another train leaving in 45 minutes.”
Perspective is powerful.
When I finally sat down, breathed deeply, and reminded myself of my own mantra—that worrying never helps and beating yourself up is never productive—I began to calm down.
And guess what I found?
My license.
Hidden behind my coffee receipt. Wedged between business cards.
Of course.
I had prayed before this trip that it would be blessed. So I have to believe that missing that train was part of that blessing. Maybe it protected me from something I’ll never know about. Maybe it slowed me down in a way I needed. Maybe it simply reminded me that I am human.
I boarded VERY, very ready.
But more than that?
I did so determined to enjoy the ride.
Because sometimes the lesson isn’t about punctuality.
It’s about grace.
It’s about remembering that one mistake does not define the day.
It’s about trusting that when you miss a departure—literal or figurative—there is still a way forward.
There is still another train.
And when you miss yours next time (because you will; we all do), I hope you pause, breathe, and remember:
The journey isn’t ruined.
It’s just rerouted.
And sometimes rerouted roads carry unexpected blessings.
