Homecoming

One of my favorite things to do is pick up a loved one from the airport. Whether they are coming to visit or coming home, the moment outside baggage claim is full of joy and reunion. I find this is true even if you don't really like the person. Pickups have a magic about them that makes any tension disappear, if only for a few minutes.

The world, and the way the public has access to airports has changed since Sept. 11, 2001. You can't bring your own beverage passed ticketing, and unless you have a ticket, you aren't getting down to a gate. Before 9/11 though, my whole family would drive to the airport, park the car, empty our pockets, walk through the metal detector and walk to the gate to greet whomever we were waiting on to arrive.  I remember when Gigi and Grampy would come to town from San Diego.  All three of us kids would get as close to the gate as possible so we could look down the tunnel being the first to catch a glimpse of the spoiling that was about to happen, pregnant with anticipation.  I guess this is where my love of picking people up comes from... I miss going to the gate.

Today, I had the opportunity to pick up my wife, returning home from her short stint in Chicago.  Picking up someone coming home isn't the same as picking up a visitor, but there is still some magic there.  I obviously couldn't go to the gate today, but I caught the look in her eye when she saw our car pulling up to the curb, and I could imagine how my grin looked when I spotted her leaning on her suitcase.  Even though she was gone for only three days, the hug and kiss I got felt fabulous, like I hadn't seen her in months.  The car ride home was filled with chitchat, random facts about her trip, nothing out of the ordinary, but that felt good too.  It felt familiar, comforting.

I missed her.  A lot.  I'm glad she is home.

I might even be able to sleep tonight.