I met with a friend yesterday. We were chatting about this and that. Traveling was one of the topics. Specifically about airports.
Jenny mentioned a line from the movie, “Love, Actually” which claims that the Arrival Gate at the airport is the happiest place to be.
Yes, that’s so true.
Even though an arrival gate can be quite chaotic.
Go through the doors and there’s a mess of humanity staring you directly in the face. Before they quickly dismiss you as not being their person.They continue searching for their loved one. Holding signs. Flowers.
Anxiously waiting.
Then the cries of joy. The smiles and laughter. The hugs.
It’s overwhelming when it’s face to face-on the same floor level. For the ones coming out of the gate. Especially if you are a shorty like me! Desperately looking for their own loved one in the sea of bodies.
What I always liked about the small airport in my home state is that you had to ride down the escalator to the waiting crowd. It allowed a bird’s eye view, while descending, to scan the masses and seek out your own people.
Also allowed them to look up and find you gliding down slowly.
And I would see my parents. Standing together and smiling when they saw us.
Would nudge my kids, “Hey, there they are! There’s Nana and Papa!”
Although they would have already spotted them on their own.
I went home last summer and then again for Christmas and it was different.
My father would never again be waiting at the Arrival Gate for me.
So, we passed through the excited crowds, collected our baggage and hopped into a taxi.
The Arrival Gate is a happy place. Love everywhere.
But not always. Sometimes it’s a memory of love everywhere.
And those memories are truly cherished.
Just Being Mary 