Rootless

I love airports so much sometimes.  I mean, I could do without the TSA and the liquids in a bag and the shoes coming off and the surprise radiation and all, but other than that airports tend to be a giant amalgamation of things that I like: travel, adventure, and people watching.

Yesterday, as I waited for the illustrious Sooj to come get me from the Denver airport, I sat in the food court above the section where all the people anxiously wait to welcome their travelers.  As I ate my (extremely greasy and entirely ill-advised) pizza, I watched each wave of people coming up the escalators, greeting and being greeted by the people behind the barrier.  My unabashed observation was, in turn, being observed by a gentleman across the way.  I paid him no mind, lost in the narrative of other people's lives unfolding before me.  It was good balm for a soul wounded by rough goodbyes.

Families met and hugged their hellos, parents and college students mostly.  There were a few business-like handshakes between what I'm assuming were coworkers or maybe just non-demonstrative relatives.  Some people held signs with "Welcome home!" written on them, others brought flowers or stuffed animals.

There were the couples, of course, most of them all but running to meet each other at the end of the barrier, catching one another in a near tackle.  Some were more sedate than others, settling for a good hug and maybe a chaste kiss before walking off hand in hand.  Others dove face-first into each other, luggage dropped and all but forgotten for however long the embrace lasted.  Oh, I missed you.  

A pretty college girl couldn't contain her happy dance, bouncing from one foot to the other and wriggling like an excited puppy.  I almost laughed out loud, because I'm sure that's what I looked like all day Friday.  I would have guessed that she was meeting a lover, but instead she ran to hug a girl at the top of the escalator - despite the Do Not Enter sign - and they squealed the universal best-friend squeal of excitement as they jumped up and down mid-hug.  They walked away talking a mile a minute, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Five minutes later a little boy ran around the barrier, then kicked up on his heelies to roll the last few feet to embrace his slightly embarrassed older brother.  Little brother was followed by Mom, who did not care even a little that her gangly teenage son was hugely uncomfortable in her bear hug.  He was relieved to grab the majority of the bags as an excuse to escape any more affection.

Then an older woman strode quickly up to her husband, who had spent the past twenty minutes nervously patting at his gelled hair like he wasn't used to it and was hoping it looked ok.  They didn't hug or kiss like the other couples, but they held each other's hands tightly while saying their hellos.  They stood still, never taking their eyes off of one another for what seemed like an eternity, love and relief at being together again obvious from a several yards away and a story up.  Finally, she gave him a sly smile that clearly said, Take me home.  He grabbed her suitcase and ushered her toward the door, trance broken.

There was a man in a bright orange shirt and black vest clutching a little bunch of red flowers in paper. He was there when I got off of my plane, pacing along the rail, going to sit on the bench, going back to the rail to pace.  I assumed that he was meeting a love, someone he hadn't seen in a long time.  He was nervous, checking his watch every few minutes, pretending to study various artwork, pacing again.  I decided to wait it out, see how the man or woman in question was going to react to his flowers and obvious affection.  I hoped that he wouldn't get all stoic once he saw them, suddenly embarrassed by his emotions.

When the next wave of people came up the stairs I got distracted by the cutest little girl in a pink shirt and pigtails shrieking "Daddy!" so loudly that I heard it over my headphones.  I watched her bolt and run as fast as her tiny legs would take her (she couldn't have even been kindergarten aged yet) from her mother's side and around the rail.  She ran right up to... the man in the orange shirt, flinging her arms around his legs with her face upturned.  He knelt down so he was closer to her level and handed her the little bouquet of flowers.  Then he scooped her up and hugged her close to his chest, laughing at something she'd said.  Definitely no stoicism there.  His wife came up and put her arm around his waist, stealing a kiss even as the little girl continued whatever story she was telling with wide eyes and expansive hand motions, coming dangerously close to smacking them both in the face with the flowers she wielded in her fist.

I was pretty sure that I would die of it if things got any cuter or sweeter, so I discarded the rest of my pizza and soda in the trash before wandering off to find a nice, secluded spot just off of the baggage area to check my phone.  I didn't realize how much being stared at by the man in the food court had bothered me until I was out of his line of vision.  I chatted with Mike about clock spiders and cupcakes, and then I caught my ride back to the house.  Sooj had just kissed her boy goodbye for two weeks.  We did the fist-bump of sad solidarity on our way out of the airport garage.

The sun was out and the mountains were beautiful, still a little snowcapped and wrapped in a blue haze.  I saw them but they didn't resonate at all.  It was as though they were a picture in a book, very pretty but ultimately not a part of my reality.  My spirit is somewhere else, curled up and sleeping soundly, staunchly refusing to go along with my "be strong" agenda.  It will have none of my dry-eyed warrior princess act, none of my big girl pants, thank you very much.  It has taken to bed with the vapors.  I wonder if it will find its way home or if I'll have to go retrieve it.

Either way, I imagine that there will be happy squeals and bouncing when we are reunited.  Maybe I'll buy myself flowers.