GOING HOME

I’m writing at the airport.  My flight from Little Rock, Arkansas to Dallas has been delayed due to the wave of storms bruising the country. 

Airports are interesting places, a menagerie of personalities passing from point A to point B.  I watch families clinging to each other as they say goodbye.  And couples wrapped in deep embraces when one is returning from being gone.  Then there are always the kids, many an awe of their surroundings, holding tight to parental hands.  This morning there was a little guy in costume although I had no understanding of his pig nose, the batman pajama bottoms and doctor’s smock for a coat.  But he was happy with laughter and it made me smile.

Many are consumed by their schedules or change in schedules on this particular day.  I understand the frenzy because when I travel I am obsessed with the timing of everything.  I must arrive early enough to not feel rushed.  Heaven forbid I have to run to a departure gate in the wrong cute traveling shoes.  Then for me, there is always the issue of my motion sickness.  Dramamine and valium are evil necessities that keep me smiling and my stomach from heaving midflight.  The taking of that Dramamine must be timed just so and since I typically travel on an empty stomach, prepping for five hours of travel with nothing to eat is vastly different from knowing that I will have to travel for an excess of twelve hours.  There was a time I had it all down to a science, no anxiety whatsoever when I had to fly domestically and internationally every other week or so for business.  But that was many years ago and I’ve discovered that my rhythm is just slightly off kilter.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard that pre-recorded message to be wary of unattended baggage and persons who look suspicious.  Heck, for all I know, after being here since the wee hours of the morning I am probably starting to look suspicious!  I know I have my eye on one or two.

A gregarious gentleman stood in line behind me as we patiently waited for airport personnel to deal with an overbooked flight, offering substantial flight vouchers for volunteers to extend their stay here at the airport instead of traveling to their final destinations.  He laughed, noting that he would have taken the direct flight home if the expense of such hadn’t been so costly.  I laughed with him and responded that at the rate things were going he’d probably be on that flight anyway at a fraction of the cost.  There have been many who have been anxious for conversation, sharing their stories, the trials of their traveling dilemmas, and the requisite jokes and laughter that can come when sharing  one's self with people they do not know.

Despite the inconvenience of it all I’m excited.  Even though I’ve had a wonderful week with incredible friends I’ve missed my guy and our routines together.  I can’t wait for the deep embrace that will be waiting there to welcome me back.  I can't wait to be going back home.