I picked them up from the airport last night.
To give you an idea of what it was like – I had spent the whole day just in my shirt, we’ve had some beautiful warm days, the start of spring. After work I swear there was ice in the air. Freezing! Getting from my car to the terminal building I thought I was actually going to have a heart attack – it. was. so. cold…
I’ve never known anyone to fly Hawaiian Air before. Seven thirty pm on a Friday night and the airport appears deserted when I rush into the arrivals hall, coughing from the cold. A quick look at the board and apparently all flights arriving at that time will come out doors C and D – a fair walk from this entry.
The far end of the building not deserted. A flight from the Middle East has arrived – large families everywhere and air hostesses dressed as I dream of Jeannie. Tensions high as a teenage boy accidentally bumps an old man – almost an incident all in Arabic except for the ‘fuck you’ trades. A fair few three generational Indian families as well. Full of smiles and adorable greetings. Grandparents kissing small children – first time they’ve met? Middle aged son lovingly giving jacket to father to ward off this sudden burst of Sydney night chill.
The airport has to be one of the most emotional places on earth. Whenever I’m there I get caught up in that, if seeing someone off I wish I was going somewhere. Picking someone up I look around and wonder who all these others have come to meet – what’s their story?
Briefly I pretended I was there to meet him. You. I scanned the hall. Those waiting, those arriving. I couldn’t pick you out from the crowd. Can’t see myself as part of a couple anymore.
Back to the waiting game and isn’t it lucky daughter’s partner is the tallest guy ever. No trouble spotting them as they finally exited door D.